Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1893-02-10
JOHNS THANKSGIVING.

aay Jonn lngleheld the blacksmith
sat in his elbow chair among those
who had been keeping festival at his
board. Being the central figure of
the domestic circle the fire threw its
strongest light on his massive and
sturdy frame reddening his rough
visage so that it looked like the head
OF an iron statue. all a.glow from his
own forge and with its features rude
ly fashioned on his own anvil. At
John 1nglelield's right hand was an
empty chair The other places round
the hearth were filled by the men,
bers of tho family. who all sat quiet.
ly. while. with a semblance of fan.
tastic merriment their shadows
danced on the wall behind them.
One OF the group was John Ingie-
fields son. who had been bred at col
lege and was now Il student of theol.
ogy at Andover. There was also a
daughter OF sixteen. whom nobody
could look at without thinking of u
rosebud almost poisoning. The
only other person at the fireside was
Robert Moore formerly an appren.
tice OF the blacksmith. but now his
1ourneyman. and who seemed more
like an own son of John lngIetield
than did the pale and slender student.
Only these four had kept New Eng.
land festival beneath that roof The
vacant chair at John Ing lefeld right
hand was in memory of his wife
whom death had snatched from him
since the previous Thanksgiving.
With feeling that few would have
LOOKED for in his rough nature the
bereaved husband had himself set the
chair in its place next his own. and
often did his eye glance thitherward
as II he deemed it possible that the
cold grave might send back its tenant
to the cheerful fireside for at least
that one evening. Thus did he cher.
lsh the grief that was dear TO him
But there was another grief which he
lain would have torn from his heart;
or since that could never be- have
buried it too deep for others to be.
hold or its own remem brance. With
in the past year another member of
his household had gone from him. but
not to the grave Yet they kept no
vacant chair for her.
While John Ingletield and his
family were sitting around the hearth.
with the shadows dancing behind
them on the wall. the outer door was
opened and a light footstep came
along the passage. The latch OF the
inner door was lifted by some familiar
hand. and ayoung girl came in wear
ing cloak and hood. which she took
off and laid on the table beneath the
looking glass Then. after gazing Il
moment at the freside circle. she ap.
preached and took the seat at John
lnglefields right hand, as ii it had
been reserved on purpose for her.
Here l am at last father" said
she. You ate your Thanksgiving
dinner without me. but | have come
back to spend the evening with you"
Yes 1t was Prudence Ingletiold.
She wore the same neat and maiden.
ly attire which she had been aceus.
toned TO put on when the household
work was over for the day. and her
hair was parted from her brow in the
simple and modest fashion that be-
came her best of all. If her cheek
might otherwise have been pale vet
the glow of the fire suffused it with a
healthful bloom. If she hal spent
the many months of her absence in
guilt and infamy. yet they seemed to
have lett no traces on her gentle as
pect She could not have looked less
altered had she merely stepped away
from her fathers ireside for half an
hour and returned while the bla
was qulvering upward from the same
brands that were burning at her de.
parture, And to John Inglefield she
was the very image of his buried wife
as he remembered her on the first
Thanksgiving which they had passed
under their own roof. Therefore,
though naturally stern and rugged
man, he could not speak unkindly to
his sinful child. nor yet could he take
her to his bosom,
You are welcome home Pru.
dence," said he. CHANGING sideways at
her and his voice falterel Your
mother would have re;oiced to see
you, but she has been gone from us
these four months.
Il know it, father know it " re-
piled Prudence. quickly. 'And vet
when | first came in my eyes were so
dazzled by the freight that she
seemed to be sitting in this very
chair"
BY this time the other members O
the family had begun to recover from
their surprise. and became sensible
that 1t was no ghost from the grave
nor vision OF their vivid recollections
but Prudence her own self. Her
brother was the next that greeted her.
He advanced and held out his hand
affectionately, as brother should,
yet not entirely like brother for
with all his kindness he was still a
and speaking TO a child
OF sin.
Sister Prudence said he earnest
ly, Il rejoice that n merciful Provi.
dence hath turned your steps home.
ward in time for me to bid you a last
farewell. In few weeks, sister. |
am to sail as missionary to far
islands of the Pacific. There is not
one OF these beloved faces that shall
ever hope TO behold again On this
earth. O. may | see all o them
yours and all-beyond the grave u
A shadow fitted across the girls
The grave Is very dark brother"
answered she, withdrawing her hand
hastily from his orasp.