Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1891-11-24
MISCELLANEOUS.
Marlon's Thanksgiving.
M KArn w. HAMILToN.

bI AATh hAAILTOH.
Marion tucked the robes more closely around
her in the I" old ark, as she mentally styled
the antiquated carriage that had met her at
the station, and then leaned back with single
sigh and closed her eyes to shut out the sight
of the snowy wood and lonely road. The way
and the conveyance suited the place to which
she was going-the plain, gloomy old country
house where Uncle Martin and Aunt Ellice
lived and grew yearly older. "queercr," more
rheumatic. and farther away from the gay
world Marion loved. She did not visit them
girls at the seminary had pitied her-the other
girls who were each to have delightful time
somewhere-that she must spend such "hor-
rid Thanksgiving"
She knew just how it would be In the old
house. She could see with her closed eyes as
the carriage rolled along-the stiff, shut-up
parlor-the great, unused chambers-the sit-
ting room, through whose quiet the tall clock
licked with such painful distinctness. Norest-
less fingers ever disarranged books or curtains,
no changing fancy ever found new places for
the furniture. Uncle Martin would read and
doze on one side of the fire place; Aunt1Ellice
would knit and doze on the other side. They
would be glad to sec her in their sober undem-
onstrative way; but they would call here Mary
Ann-they always did, and oil, how she hated
1t 1t would never occur to them to try to en-
tertain her or to bring any young life into tue
old house on her account. They would talk q
little of old Thauksgivings and Aunt Ellicc
would probably remark that she had thought
of having the minister and his wife and 3tr.
aud Mrs. Prichard this year" But even such
q stupid dinner party as that would not really
be carried into effect; they should dine alone,
they three, with old Hannah to wait on them.
Oh, dear! it was all so different from the
merry gatherings to which the other girls were
going. Even in the cars acquaintances had
been wishing each other '' a happy Thanks
giving"
There had been one exception to the condol-
ences so generally bestowed upon her.
Tho station-kceper, as he lifted her trunk to
the easy familiarity that belongs to life in a
small Villages
Z" Well, 1 hope you'll kerry the old folks a
little good cheer for Thanksgivin'. Pears like
they need it, livin' all alone so, with not a
chick nor child belongin' to EN-"
Marion had secretly resented the manner
and matter of the speech; yet, as 1t recurred to
her now, there suddenly flashed upon her the
suggestion it held. Sure enoughl the Thanks
giving to which she was going promised poor
ly enough for herself, but what about the one
she was carrying to them7
81 might try to use the pieces OF my own
spoiled one to patch up respectable one for
them. suppose" she said, with laugh, sit
sing up to consider the proposition.
1t was broad one and held such varied pos,
| sibilities, when she once began it, that the
| long stretch of woodland and road had been
travcrsed before she knew it, and the old
house was ia sight.
Exit Marion, enter Mary Ami I'll be the
laSt-named damsel to the best of my ability fol
the next two weeks" she assured herself al
most gleefullY as she stepped upon the broad
piazza.
Mary Ann did variety of things that Mar.
ion had never thought of doing-little things
most of them; but they seemed to haYe won.
derful effect. She sought out her plainest
dress, and tied over it when she came down tc
dinner a little white apron, at which Aunt El-
lice glanced approvingIy. She inquired about
| all of the old residents whom she could remem.
Der, and skillfully started Uncle Martin into
stories of old times which soon awakened Auni
| Ellice and himself TO unwonted animation.
"That was Cousin 'Lizabeth," said Ami
Eillce at the close of one of those reminiscen
ces. It's years since I've heard from her di
rcctly, though we used to be most ike sisters
She lives out in Iowa. and I've often though
I'd write, but always put it of. someway
letter-wf1tin' looks Ike a mountain nova
days.
"Why not let ME do It for youi' said Mar
ion, with happy thought. " Wen do it thi
very afternoon; send her good, long letter
aud tell her how we were talking of old day
and of her"
"If Jon just would I" answered Aunt Ellie
heartily. with sudden Frightening of he
worn face. Then there was the old piano.
Marion had always shunDed that "instur
ment," as Uncle Martin called It. It wa
greatly ont of. date, considerably out Of tune
and the classical music on which Marion pride
herself suited neither it nor her audience. Bu
to-day che had reminded herself that '' Mar
Anne" playing would probably be of anothe
style, and going mp to the attic she had foun
book Of old fayorites; she was well rewarde
in the supreme content with which Uncle Ma
tin listened to robin Adair'' called for "AIal
ian Gray" and finally hunted MP long ur
used flute and tried to accompany her /
Money Muck
As for Thanksgiving itself, the dream c
having the minister and his wife and Mr. an
Mrs. Pritchard for once became reality.
"why not have them. Aunty, and hal
dozen of your old friends besides2 I'll hel
Hannah get up the dinner and see that eyery
thing is right. You needn't worry over it o
get tired bit, /" Marion said.
Getting up the old folks party was rea
fun, /" Marion declared afterward The closes
lparlor was opened, its splendors were shaker
out of their stiffness and frightened by spark
ling open FIRE, the addition Of come Of Aun