The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1889-12-04
Selected Storm.
The GIassfords' Thanksgiving.

Mary Glassford sat by the breakfast
table musing. IL was quite evident
that the meal had been finished some
time before. The bit of butter left in
the dish was fast finding its level, and
a belated and adopted fly was cleaning
at its ease.
Mrs. Glassford had Just sent her two
boys to school with an open question in
their minds-a delicate question to
leave open, considering the weather
and the time.
After Tom had kissed his mother
good-by, Johnny had implied a doubt;
and she had said, with her kiss to him:
"Of course we shall have Thanks
giving dinner, you little gOOsel We
would look well not to mind, when the
president and the governor both order
usl-they might sentence us TO live on
bread and water for year if we
neglected to feastl Now, Tom, you
duck, see that johnny puts on his
mittens tonight. With such dear
duck and such a sweet goosey | am
always ready for Thanksgiving. Now,
rum
After they had run down the frozen,
sandy road, and she had sat down again
behind the pint coifee-pot, the laughing
light faded out of her eyes
Things were getting serious.
about as near a famine as 1t is
pleasant to come" she said, aloud:
but grooming will not help it."
How often in domestic history this
one fact is repeated:
She went to the cupboard"
{" Let me know the exact state Of our
larder,n Mrs. Gassford said, bravely,
taking counsel with herself, as she
often did, as if, when the children were
out of hearing, a twin-sister came from
behind the curtain to comfort her-the
double of her hopeful, shielded, petted
youth.
My one accomplishment, as dear
John used to call it, of getting a good
meal out of nothing, never had bet
ter chance for lack of material. Two
eggs, half loaf of bread, salt to
taste an ounce, | should say, of but
ter, pound of sugar, and less than
half Il dollar in my pursel But | can
get buttermik for the asking of Mrs.
Tully, and / have not scraped the
-four. barrel yet, and l have plenty of
coal, thanks to TIE good old man who
makes summer for us all the year.
Then there are the potatoes, and |
have no doubt all the rest we need will
come in time. My daily bread always
has come, and there will be something
more for my boys Thanksgiving, l am
sure"
When Mrs. Glassford was young
(pardon this DEPRESSION, when she is
barely thirty it used to be said at
home, when any one wanted smile
for strength, " it is as strong as Mary's
faith" Through her husbands long
illness and pinched widowhood that
faith had been sorely tried, and had
been at the point of breaking many
tim :, but had never quite given way.
Z" | am not afraid; it will come all
rigM." she would say TO those who
leaned upon her.
She had never been rich; but, after
leaving a thrifty home, her husband
had provided his own humble home
stead in the Hudson Valley with farm
er's comforts, and Mary had kept her
bright, CHEEKY ways and dainty knack
of making " thiugs" to eat and
"things" to wear, SO that this dear,
kind John Glassford died without real
lLlIlS IlON OlJcll llcl ingenuity lluu DCtu
racked and how little she had left.
When Mary's mother died the father
had followed son to Vermont. After
Johns death he came down and adj
yiscd an auction of ali the farm stock.
The dreaded day of sale came. The
little boys have not yet forgotten how
strange it was to see the barn-yard full
of men, and how they laughed at the
rough jokes of the auctioneer. But
they cried as one after another of their
homely possessions were carried away.
A man they did not like at all took
the two-seated wagon in which they all
used to ride. A strange man led away
the pretty Guernsey COW. How Dimple
hated to ge down the road! how she
pulled back from the stout rope tied
around her horns, and how their
mother, standing inside the kitchen
window, cried till they lost sight and
sound of her own Dimple, that she had
raised from feeble calf which Neigh
Dor Hunter had given her!
Then another man led away Billy,
the bright-coated bay horse, up the
road-Billy, who had carried them
safely hundreds of miles, to mill and to
church and a-visiting.
Then grandpa shut the barn-door; he
put the bar across; put the paddock in
the staple, locked it, and carried the
key indoors. Tom almost hated him,
for somehow it seemed to him as if
grandpa was glad that the horse and
cow had gone.
The money that came when pigs and
grindstone and ali were gone was put
out at interest, and Mary's father gave
her this advice when he was ready to
90 hack home:
" No matter how scant you may be
at times, try, child, not to run in debt.
Stay right here, where folks feel kindly
to you and your boys. The old house
is mug, and the boys will soon earn
money helping the farmers. Just hold
the place for them, if you can, and let
me know if it is too hard"
Which Mary had not done yet.
On her slender income they had lived
two years, up to this Thanksgiving
time of which | am telling.
But do not sigh and leave them &c
their fate. They did not sigh. Few
merrier, stronger lads than Tom are