The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1896-11-17
PART ].

The times of which we write were
those OF signs and wonders. The people
scvm5d to live in the inward world:
to keen company with evil spirits ana
to l,comc one of them, or to feel the
touches Of angel wines. and to be lLt-
"i Into hiGh~c snN"taS. on 0n"i' S""'
rose above her times and here we are
pleased 10 associate "i;h one uf the
most remarkable ?om1nCos of her own
or any age.
l, was near the close of the seven
t,enth century. Pierre Calnf sat SIN X
ing on the steps of a widows house
neal Cops Fin in Boston town.
"Widuw Restore, you surely do not
intend to take that young man INTO
your home
YES, Pierre. Why not? Something
tells me that / ought to do it-snme-
thing within-it is what you DO for
others that brings to you at last the
cup o: Thanksgiving"
"I.ut he l.; pCnnieSs. and Will not be
likely To- add to your small income"
pierre Calef it is less the purpose
Of life to make money than to help men.
There is a high. strong purpose in th"
young sailors heart. and | am going
t. try to help him"
H. was Boston town. The North
church stood hard by on the hill, and
near it was the early bGrying ground.
Along the curve Of Salem street were
solid houses and fine gardens, and be-
yond was the Common, where cattle
;.razcd free, and rested 10y the pond
under the ratriarchial elms.
PIERRE Cal"f was a friend of the
"Widuw Restore" He called upon her
offer anG volunteered his advice after
tie manner of the times. He liked her.
hut thought that she nad more heart
thar head. and that the former needed
not unircuuCnt correction, and. in such
cases, hC never failed to offer his "ap-
pies Cr LCld in pictures of silver
"Ecstor, >" Was that the Wil rvs
true nam,p No. 1t was n name given
her Ly the good people becaus" il cN-
pressed or character VI was tiEie
Of stocks. pillories and whipping posts,
aId W hen she found some miSicd person
oXU,scu in public she would remind
the clergy or the magistrate that true
duty was t. restore such one in III"
spirit of mcekness. Hence her provn-
c';,l name.
1t was high noon when Pierre Calcf
left the widows door Soon her adopt
ed sailor boy came home from the
Wharvcs. She had prepared good
dinner for him. and after it they sat
down i'm the shade of the steps 10y the
open door, and talked together.
f'u HdIl, Iu'Hli'Ii'i 'nC Nii'N'
"that your name is PhnpS.'
Yes, madam: that is my true name.
William phipps.'
Your father and mother are living
in Maine?'
Yes; they are poor, and have a
large family
Il wish | might do something for
them" said the widow. her heart en-
larging. How many children have
they?'
There have been twenty-six born to
them. madam"
The widows eyes widencd.
DO you know how To read and
writc?"
No; there was no school where we
lived. 1t is forest. ] want To know
how to read: that has been one Of
those dreams of mine. AS soon rs |
earn a little ! will get some one t"
teach me. one only needs To learn the
alphabet to find out everything, ! am
told. If ! could read and write might
become the master of IL ship
Il will teach YOU.
William Phipps or Phips, as his name
was at that time spelled-the young
sailor from the pine woods of Maine
obtained work on the carGocs Of the
vessels lying at the wharves. He re-
turned from his work daily with nim-
BILE feet, for it at once became his de-
light to hc under the influence of tn"
widow. He wanted no other society.
They used to sit together by the open
windows where the morning ClOries
swung, in the long summer twilights.
he repeating to her his "a-b-ahS,' as
primary education was termed in the
dame school.
While they were thus occupied,
Pierre Calef sometimes passed by, ana
on more than one occasion he stopped,
and looked in at the door, and sat
down on the step. and whitfield his pipe,
and said absently:
THE cup of Thanksgiving"
The young sailor heard it. What did
il mean? 1t formed in his quick i'm
agination "a mystic picture. like that
of the legend of the Holy Grail. 1t
was suggested to him as to one of the
old knights of the Round Table, that
he might gain a cup that would be a
blessing to some one, perhaps To the
good widow herself.
one night he came home troubled.
The widow noticed his mood and asked:
why are your thoughts woolgath
erinG, my lad?'
Jack Cone. / have an awful temper
and cannot contain myself sometimes"
My boy. the failure of life usually
comes through some small fault like
that, and ones best friend is he who