Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1893-11-30


Ashford farm since he was a boy and
felt himself a member OF the family.
The scene that met them 10 the par
Tor was indeed a surprise. Old Mrs.
Ashford, whom they had left tucked up
I'm an easy chair (she had insisted that
they should all go to church, and that
Jane MaXsy, their neighbor, who was
helping in the kitchen, would look out
for herr, was standing on her feet
trembling with eagerness. Her eyes,
that could scarcely see, were bent on
the stranger with wide open, pitiful in
tentness.
''Ob, father, fatherl Tom is alive
and may come home at any time, This
IS a gentleman from the West and
friend OF his, Mr.-Mr.-I d!dl't quite
catch the name"
John Bowker, ma'am, is my name,
at your service" said the newcomer In
a hOarse voice, perhaps 1t was huSki-
ness. And then all piled him eagerly
with questions. While the strangers
answers were apparently frank, VIII,
shrewd man OF the world that he was,
fancied o note OF confusion in the
words.
Could it be Tom himself masquerad-
ing? But, no. This was sJalwart
giant, bigger than TOMS young prom
Use. The shock of black locks lay low
on the brow, and the bushY beard
grew TO the very eyes. And there was
no cadence Of the past lurking IN the
towns 50 often the sunset Of detec-
tives.
Mr.. John BoWker said he had known
Tom we'll in the mining regions; had
seen him indeed only two months ago
in ArinzOna. Tom was heartily home
sick and had set his will on eating his
next Thanksgiving dinner at home,
"Seeing as how, ma'am," addressing
himself TO the old lady, who deyoured
every word, che knew L was q lonely
nobody, and that I was going back to
Gods country about the same time, he
saws 10 me, says Tom: John Bowker
Won must eat your Thanksgiving turkey
with me and my folks. And If l amt
there they'll welcome you for my
sake"
An ten times welcome you are for
Toms sake, though he hain't here yet,
for you bring blessed news, =" said the
farmer, shaking the others hand over
and over.
Kate, burning with curiosity, fitted
in and out OF the room, for the culinary
mysteries Of q rural Thanksgiving are
too sacred to be tempered with. Almost
to the last moment the New England
housewife ministers in person at the
affairs where steam the fumes Of savory
victims. Poor Kate had been sadly
divided between the voice Of the stranger
and the claims OF the huge turkey sput-
tering on the spit before the fire. At
last everything was ready, and she dart
ed to her room to change her gown.
Who does not recall the hOmely glo-
ries OF q country Thanksgiving feast
the golden brown turkey proudly lying
in state and reeking with the most de-
licious odors; the roast duck bursting
with their own fairness, as il eager TO be
eaten; the chicken pastry within
whose ample bowels the most delicious
tidbits culver 10 their own Jelly; the
lucious home cured ham, chec6ered
with islands Of pepper and spice; the
sDlendors of pumpkin pie, yellow
as gold and piQuaut with flavor
which ApiCius would have loved,
and the mine of minced
dainties hidden beneath a 6aky crust!
These have been embalmed in song and
story, entombed ia countless memories
and countless stOmachs. Bottles Of
cider fanked the prOiusion Of good
things on Farmer Ashford'S table.
win had brought down a case Of cham
paiene, but his father shook his head
a Ha1l wn Fhnrn Fran hi
fed things amt half as good as my Old
Newton pipin cider"
AS they stood around the smoking
feast the old man said to the guest;
THAT place az my right always re-
mans empty for Tom. Would be were
here to I'll it, an me6be he will before
long
The stranger looked about the table
at each one, longest 40 the mother Of
the house. He was trembling like a
little child. With a mighty voice strug-
Cling with its sobs, he exclaimed;
"Then lot il be no longer empty"
and tearing of the shock wig from bis
head, Mother, father, Kate, VIII, don't
YOU know me? I'm home again, thank
Godw
One may well drop veil over the
scene. We suspect the turkey got 4
little cold, but what mattered that, for
there are feasts or the heart richer
than any food for the body. Yet later
on Father Ashford did cOnide TO Tom:
"This farm has fattened many fine
bird, but DO think 1 never raised so
tasty a gobbler before. That there tur-
KEY couldn't "a been beat on the presi-
dents own table"
After dinner Tom sat for long time
BY his mothers chair, she fondling his
baud as II be were a baby, he telling
them OF life in the wild west. Often
look Of pain crossed his brow, and
many a thing he touched but lightly.
At least so Wits wife fancied. That
astute lady whispered to her spouse,
I'm sure there's something between
nv new found brother and Kate"
"D've think SOP" with a lift OF his eve
brows. zone can see il with half an
eye, you gOosem and Mrs. VIII crossed
the room.
Dear mother" she said, you're just
tired 20 death with excitement and need
rest" This was indeed true, though
the thirst st maternal heart craved
still deep fits of Tom, and the :
ter carrie up. faintiogly pr st.
ing, to he Dom in his strong IS.