The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1896-11-19

ing out of che win
dow. Not that she saw any of the beau
ties that Lay outside in the glittering,
frost-ornamented world, or the beauti-
full picture of the white fields set in
the rich framing of a dark green pine
forest. Her stare was wholly mechan-
ical for her vision was turned inward
and she was moodily thinking of their
troubles, both the real and imaginary
The day before one of the farm horses
died. A few days before that a COW
died. Potatoes were only a few cents
bushel, and this year they had vcntured
largely in that crop. Grain was low in
value. The price of hogs was going
steadily down, down, down. These were
some of the real troubles. 1t seemed
surely that the bottom was knocked out
OF their prosperity,
Then her soul was equally narrowed,
for she had that way of fretting over
minor ills, over a long array of mag
mary woes. \ new carpet had Just come
home from the weaver's with the stripes
woven an inch nearer together than she
had ordered. This little trife she had
worried over until it was magnified into
a great calamity. She was unable to
get her a new cloak this fall, as she had
intended. Her fall house cleaning was
still unfinished There were actually
fly specks on the very window before
her now, which fretted her clearly soul
into peevish unhappiness. These, and
a score of similar weighty evils, chafed
her nerves on this beautiful morning
until she was powerless to see that life
held one charm or blessing.
Added to the above woes the children
had been clamoring for days for an
observance of Thanksgiving. But their
mother had told them emphatically that
they would not have any Thanksgiving
this year. That they had been so af-
flicted by misfortunes they had little to
be thankful for. That not turkey or
even pie would grace their table on
that day; every turkey must be sold to
buy necessities.
She predicted dark outlook for their
future, filling the infantiIe minds with
visions of CHASTITY want. Such words
coming from their mother were deeply
impressive on all the children except
Davy, the little seven-year rebel of the
camp. Davy had no appreciation of
the ethics of such an unheard-of doc
trine. Davy liked good dinner. And
not to have a Thanksgiving dinner!
not have turkey! not have pie! not
have any company Why, it was the
vilcst heresy to all that was worth liv-
ing for.
Unlike his mother, there was not one
drop of melancholy blood in little Davy's
swift-tlowng veins. He was the very
embodiment of joy and Sunshine. He
saw life through a mirror which re-
Elected back only pictures of bright
ness. His eager, vivacious, joy-loving
little soul was proof against despond-
cnt infection.
AS Mrs. Hoven stood looking out the
window in brooding blueness, her hus-
band came in from the barn and took
seat by the fire to warm.
"John Marsh passed just now" he
said. "He says another one of the
Green children died last night of
diphthcria. How terribly afflicted they
nre! I hope to God it won't get in this
neighborhood."
The door into an adjoining room
where the children were playing was
slightly ajar. A numerous little regi-
mcnt were the Hoven children, and
crowded close together in years. There
were six of them, from 12-year-oid
Katie to year and a half baby Roy. They
had all gathered in the big kitchen on
this morning where they loved so to
play. And, as usual, Davy was the life
and leader of the party.
"Sav Katie" he cried, Tets play