The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1891-11-25

the weevil gifts what we've got or not?
II the wheat don't sell well, how are
we goin' to pay the intruss on that
mortgage? Seems to me Sam mighter
helped us a little thar. But sence he's
got out to Montanny he don't care
whether his old parents ever hear from
him agin or not. OF all the plaques a
poor man ever had an ungrateful child
| is the wust."
I'm sure Sam don't mean to be I'M
grateful" said Mrs. Ware, ever ready
to defend their absent boy. You was
allus hard on Sam, because he was
rather wild. But have faith in Sam
yit, nd l feel to thank the Lord for
givin' us sech boy"
"That's the way with you women"
grunted Silas. "The wuss boy gifts
to be, the more you stick up for him.
And IS if this want enough, the best
steer on the place must lay down and
die, just when was needin' him to
haul in the fodder. Thar hain't his
match in the country"
''Oh well, father, you said you was
goin' to make beef out'n both the yoke.
Well get the fodder hauled somehow.
Let us go to church and do our part.
The Lord'll be sure to do his'n any
how"
$50 yourself, if you want to, Maria,
but don't bother me about thankin' the
Lord for what He hain't done, and
from what can see hain't goin' to do
nuther."
Silas got up as he spoke, put away
his pipe and went into the sitting-room.
He picked up the county paper and lay
down upon a lounge by the window.
Though he ignored attending church,
he did not feel like going out to work,
but grumbled himself into some sort of
interest over the market reports. The
sound of Mrs. Ware. ct her work in the
kitchen, mingled softly with the gen.
tier flow his reveries soon fell into. He
felt sleepy. yet he did not wish to sleep.
1t seemed as if he lay long while
wondering what would happen next
Then he rose, put on his hat and went
out doors.
The sky was overloaded and cold
wind was blowing. The promise of a
bright day had not been kept. He
wandered slowly over the farm, MOTTO
ing the stones. the stumps, the ragged
fences and the general poverty of the
soil. He felt more than ever what an
il-used man he was. Nothing good
could he see in anything.
Sand yet Maria thinks we ought to
be thankful. That's about all the
sense woman has"
On the way back to the house he
passed through the barn. The mate to
the dead steer looked at him mildly,
from over the manger.
"I'll make sure of you ter-morrer,
grumble Silas. You'll have to make
beef, whether you're fat or not. Hit
don't do to risk too many chances these
hard times" .t
He went through the woodshed and
into the kitchen, Everything was in
order, yet the house seemed strangely
silent within, though outside the wind
mourned dolefully. In The kitchen,
the fire had gone down, though the tea
kettle was on, and in the cooling oven
lay the Thanksgiving turkey.
"Plague take itw exclaimed Silas,
after examining into the state of the
culinary affairs. EFF Maria nain't got
to be as shftless as the rest"
He pushed on into the sitting-room,
charged with a connubial reprimand.
But as he opened the door, he stun bled
against something soft and yielding,
yet which sent an unaccountable shiver
from his feet to the very crown of his
head. He looked down. 1t was WON.
| ans recumbent form. With a great
| fear at his heart he bent down, turned
the pale, white face to the light, ther
staggered back, trembling in every
limb, while cold drops stood out upon
his forehead. l
"You-M aria?" he gasped, DIS with a
Sudden wild hope he shook the still
form violently. wake up, Maria,
The idea of you agoin' to sleep and let
ting the turkey get cold in the oven"
No response. The figure that had
worn itself out working for him lay as
nerveless in his arms as a block O.
stone. The closed eyes, the purple
! lips, the drawn, white features, tolt
their terrible story. His wife was deat
-dead-and he had parted from hcl
not two hours before, with selfish
grumblings upon his lips.
Silas Ware rose to his full height, an(
uttering hoarse, inarticulate cry, fel
back upon the lounge from which HI
had recently risen. Thanksgiving day
At breakfast he thought himself an i'll
used and an unfortunate man.
'Oh, God! Oh, God" he moaned
"What would not give to have it al
back?"
All what? What but Maria - hi
wife, the faithful companion of tn
tolls, the joys and the sorrows o
|