The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1896-11-22


lected a few specimens they went back
to the house.
Next day he said he was going away,
and he asked Mr.. and Mrs. Bascom
how much he owed them for his board
and his medicines.
Land sakes, professor said Mrs.
Bascom, you don't spose we could
take your money. do you? What little
we've been able to do for you is little
| enough for what you did for u.s." And
! the farmer himself spoke as earnestly,
so the professor said no more about
money. In fact, he seemed so well
pleased that Mr.. Bascom remarked 1t
when he was alone with his wife.
Pears to me that there Prof HUI
COS almighty skinny about money"
he said. He was tickled to death
eenamost when he found he didn't
have to pay nothin."
John Bascom," exclaimed the good
woman, you don't mean to stand there
and tell me you would take money from
the man that saved your own daugh-
ter's life?''
Don't be a fool, Maria 'Tain't likely
I would, but I'd a thought more Of him
if he'd "a tried a little harder to pay"
But there was another one in the
family who had no such thoughts.
When Ella Bascom bade the professor
goodbye, she said, II never have really
thanked you as 1 want to, and I don't
s'pose / ever can, but I want you to
know that never can forget what you
have suffered for me-"
"Pish, pishi" said the professor care
lessly, though he was well pleased. It
was nothing only my own stupid foot
that all the trouble made. And did
for you very little. Only I am glad,
fraulein, that I study the rocks that
day" And he kissed her goodbye.
but you will come again to see us2"
urged the little maiden. won't you
come Thanksgiving
Maybe, maybe" he said. THAT Is
good day, that Thanksgiving. You to
the good Lord give thanks because ne
so good to you is And you have one
great dinner Maybe I thank Him,
too. that He kill me not. And you
thank that you take Of mother good
care. And maybe I take dinner that
day with you
1t was several weeks, however, peIofe
Thanksgiving day came, and in the in
terval, as the hard New England Win
ter came on, things went badly with
the Bascoms. Ella developed slight
cough, that made her mother turn pale
when she heard it. She had learned to
know how easily consumption attacks
young people in the rigorous climate
of upper New England, yet she dared
| not speak to Mr.. Bascom about sending
the girl South for the winter. The
means were lacking. The crops were
| pOor. One of the two pigs they had
fattened died before killing time. Mr..
Bascom himself, growing old before
his time, seemed no longer able to look
on the bright side of anything, and
the anxious wife and mother could only
pray a little more earnestly and
little more frequently than before.
To work harder was impossible. And
John could only study later and rise
o1-i1o fn ma lyQ fathers
ing strength. Nothing was heard from
the professor, and, as the family rea-
lized more and more every day how
heavy the odds were against them,
they ceased to talk and almost ceased
to think much about him. He had saw
ed them from q great sorrow, he had
been a great care and burden for
time, and then he had passed away to
be only memory.
1t was therefore entirely surprise
when, a few days before Thanksgiving,
John brought home a letter from the
village postoff1ce addressed in a queer
foreign handwriting to Miss Ella Bas-
com.
"It must be from the professor she
said, and after they had all agreed to
this and had examined the envelope
and the poStmark and had wondered
sufficiently about what he could have
to say, as people do who do not often
IL.
My Dear Little Fraulein: 1 have not for
gotten that you asked to go to see you
again on Thanksgiving day, and / will go. 1
will to see what is the great holiday Of the
American people in the American peoples
home.
Your brother John. he is a good boy, and
he will be good man. He will give thanks,
maybe, that 1 did get him place in New
York where he can study and be an engineer
and will earn money-not very much, but
enough.
Tell your papa 1 have, maybe some good
news for him, and tell your mamma since I
come to dinner I have the great liberty
taken to send my dinner. And 1 kiss your
hand. Hugo.
Such news was too wonderful, and
yet it was tantalizing. There was no
end to the specializing, and it was later
that night than it ever had been before
when the Bascoms went to bed
The next day. however. brought a
still greater surprise. Word came from
the railway station, two miles away,
that there were several large cases
there for Mr. Bascom, eXpreSSage paid.
The old gray horse was astonished
enough at the speed at which he was
ratified along, but his feelings were
nothing to those Of the family when
the cases were brought home and
opened
If there was anything known to the
grocery or delicatessen trade that
wasn't represented in those cases, 1t
| was because the professor couldn't find
it. And there was the biggest turkey
Bascom ever saw, with a box of fresh
vegetables, and everything else needed
to cook with it. And of everything
else there was enough to last all win
ter.
Mrs. Bascom was stunned. She could
say nothing, but the children made up
for her silence, and Mr. Bascom, after
he had recovered little from his be-
will III
that's the professors dinner, he must
have a leetle the best appetite of any
body I ever knowed of.
Next day the professor came himself,
fatter than ever and jollier than they
had ever seen him. ut Is nothing,
he said, when Mr.. and Mrs. Bascom
undertook to demonstrate with him for
sending them such a wealth of stores.
ut is nothing. I have never your
Thanksgiving kept before, and I thank
YOU so much for your to me kindness
when l was suffering"
but you said you were poor man?''
said Mr.. Bascom.
Zach, yes! They call me In the city
poor but always have a few thousand
dollars"
And again they sat UP halt the night
discussing Johns future, which now
depended on himself And only the
prother remembered to cry silently even
while she reprOached herself for in
gratitude, because there was in all the
good fortune no way yet open for send
ing Ella away from the winter storms.
But the next morning when the mother
and daughter were in the kitchen and
John was busy outside, the professor
said:
II wrote In my letter, Mr. Bascom.
It was this: Your son John he showed
mo good stone on VOlIr farm. 1t lS for