Warren sheaf., 1890-11-20

wv. 81 J I.z|Ii
HE TORE OPEN THE NOTE AND READ.
to the able, he cleared it of the
gay litter of cards, photographs and
knickknacks that bestrewed it, and
began to unpack the gifts from home
After several layers of wrapping
paper had been removed, tempting
vision rewarded his eager gaze. Repos-
ing peacefully on bed of parsley lay a
| fat, juicy, tender young turkey in a
| golden brown state of absolute perfec-
ton, whose internal structure was com
posed of delightful compound of dress
ing and oysters; and as John placed
this bird on the table very tender
thoughts arose in his heart of the
mother-love that had planned this sur
prise for him. A little jar of cranberry
preserves glowed and glis,ened like
rubies In the light as it was unwrapped
and placed by the side of the turkey.
And what was this that sent forth such
juicy, appetizing odors as it was lifted
up into the light? What, indeed, but a
mince pie, rich and tempting, with a
crust that was ready to melt in ones
mouth And then, of course, next came
out pumpkin plea beauty of a pie it
was, too, with its rich golden face sur
| rounded by the border of white crust
like jolly old woman in a cap.
AS John Williams placed the pie on
the table he.fell to thinking how care
fully his mother used to choose the
pumpkins for the Thanksgiving pies
Through the hot, scorching days of sum
mer, and the dewy lights and frosts of
autumn, the great yellow globes grew
and ripened, and drank in the sun
shine and the dew and when they were
gathered in, the whole family looked
on while the mother chose the biggest
and the ripest pumpkin of all for the
pies that graced the crowning feast of
the year.
Turning again to the box, he brought
out doughnuts, such as no one but
mother ever can or ever does make;
cookies delicate and tender; and then
great slices of yellow pound cake, and
fruit cake whose dark sides were store
of delight for the one so fortunate as to
taste them. Three little glass jars of
fruit preserves, whose transparent sides
revealed the beauty and richness of
their delicious contents, as they were
| carefully unwrapped, came out next
Then, from out it's many wrappers,
the young man drew glass of CULVER
ing, amber ounce jelly, with it's won
drously delicate color and flavor.
Johns fayorite dainty! mother
never forgets the tastes of her children,
and though he would never know it's
history, his mother could have told
quite story of the infinite pains and
trouble She had taken to get that jelly
for his homecoming at Thanksgiving
The ounce crop had been failure that
year. but she had succeeded in procur-
ing few gnarled little ounces, and,
by the utmost care and patience, had
made from them that one glass of Jelly
for John.
He nearly overlooked paper bag
cram mmed with nuts-nuts from the old
walnut trees down in the big pasture,
whose crop he had gathered for many
| successive years in company with the
boys Of the neighborhooG. There also
were hickory and butternuts, and they
recalled the days of autumn and the
nutting frolics with the gay COM
| panions of his childhood, and the long
| evenings around the hearthstone, eat
ing apples and cracking nuts, while the
circle that sat in the light of the big
wood fire sometimes widened until all
the older brothers and sisters and their
little ones sat with them, and again
narrowed down to three-the dear old
mother with her knitting on one side,
and the father with his newspaper on
the other, and he himself, little boy
on low stool between them, eating
nuts and looking into the burning en-
bers, and dreaming of the days when
he should be grown up, and should
leave that hearthstone to seek his fort
une in the wide world beyond.
For the last time he reached down
into this wonderful box and brought
| out apples from the old orchard. There
were several of each variety that grew
on the place, and, yellow and green and
red, fragrant and lovely, they brought
the smile of spring, the sweet breath
OF summer and the vigorous life of
autumn in their golden hearts. With
them came the vision of the old orchard
| in the spring-time, with its wealth of
pink and white blossoms showering the
green grass beneath the trees with
fairy snow; green and cool and shady.
bright with golden promises of coming
pleasure through the hot summer days;
and then in autumn, when every tree
became as gay as Christmas tree,
decked in 5right-colored balls that
danced in the wind and sunshine and
were gathered in with shout and
laughter and stored away to help make
merry the long winter evenings around
the fireside
The moments went by unheed ed.
while the young man sat and gazed
upon the table heaped high with the
tokens of his mothers love and thought
fulness and toll. His dark eyes were
soft and dewy, as he mused long and
deeply. The spicy odors filled the
room with incense, that like a magic
vapor formed itself into images and
visions of his childhood days He saw
the long, low-roofed farm house, nestled
among the hills, the broad meadows and
fields surrounding it, and the shining
river that flowed near the little red
school-house. where he first went to