The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 18??-1935, 1896-11-27

turned to his work with CHEEKY
whistle that sent thrill of satisfac-
tion through the widows heart.
A wonderful change had been eff
fected by the time another year had
rolled another Thanksgiving into the
calendar. The roof of the old house
no longer leaked. Ths bar had been
raised from its attitude of deep de-
lection, and its mOws were crowded
to bursting with hay and grain. The
old horse spent his days chiefly in
the pasture, while younger and
more vigorous animal did the work,
assisted by yoke of big and hand
some oxen. The solitary COW now
had plenty of company, and frisky
calves gamboled about her in the
summer time. There was no longer
any doubt as to the availability of
any of the fat gobblers for Thanks
giving dinner. ..t
Thus the seasons succeeded one
another with their measure of con-
tent. Each found the widow more
and more dependent upon her stall
wart helper. She clung to him as
she might have clung to the son of
whom she had been deprived in
the springtlme of her wifehood. AS
her tottering footsteps were sup
ported down the aisle of the village
church on Sunday few of the con-
gregation knew that the handsome
young man who watched over her so
assiduously was not in fact her own
son. Those who were cognizant of
the relations between the two shook
their heads knowingly, saying to
themselves and to each other
Lucky boy that! Stepped right
into the farm just as the old lady
was about to leave it. He knows
the side of his bread that has the
butter on it,
But it is doubtful if Jem had ever
given that a thought; SO happy and
content was he that the merely ma
terial conditions of his life had never
troubled his consciousness. Only
one thing troubled his thoughts of
late. He was deeply stirred by the
soft, brown eyes of pretty Susie
Jones, chorister in the church
Susie, who lived, as he had done,
with friends for board and keep
another of New England's orphans.
He never mentioned this daring
speculation, not even to the widow.
But her eyes, though growing dim,
were acute enough to penetrate his
honest soul. His whole life lay GEN.
tered in the farm, which had be-
come as essential to it almost as the
air he breathed. But now there
must be young life there. A pair OF
brown eyes persisted in dancing be-
fore his face, in wood pile, in field,
in garden.
And so it came to pass that there
was wedding next Thanksgiving
In the little cottage, now pretty with
vines and CHEEKY within. Susie was
glad of so pleasant q place for the
troth which she was to plight with
Jem, while he, lucky fellow though
he was, could not take time to travel
to Susie's home, far away over the
rough, hilly roads. "a wife's a good
thing" he remarked to the widow
the evening before his marriage
but there's COWS to be looked after
and hens to be fed-more'n you
could tend to alone"
That's so, Jem, said the widow
smiling brightly, land thanks to
you for it all.n
Under branches of autumn leaves
from the last reddeDing trees Jen
and Susie promised all the things o
the simple marriage service. Their
came the country Wedding supper
When the last guest had gone
driven away in the farm wagons tina
had clustered around the door al
afternoon, the widow turned to Jen
and Susie, sitting bashfully in th,
freight.
You're my children, now, both o
you," she said. "Call me mothe
just once, Jem and Susie.n
"Mother!" cried Jem, taking th,
: feeble hands together and kissing
them tenderly. My darling moth
, er, dearest friend | ever hadI"
She returned his loving glance lin
J geringly, gratefully, as they led he
to the door of her room.
Next morning Jem knocked agail
at the Widow Wilson's door just a
he had done on that lonely Thanks
giving day four years ago. Tbi
time not even feeble voice an
swered his repeated calls.
t Three days later, as the neighbor
struggled back from the little GENE
terry on the hill, Squire Lothro
drew Jem apart.
II s'pose you know the widder'
left the farm to you? No? Sho! 1t
mighty strange she didn't tell you
, She made her will more'n a yea
ago, and you're her only heir. Sh
! seemed to set lot by you, the wild
der did, and"-looking around ap
; provingly over the snow covere,
: tield-"I d'nO's 1 blame her. Th
r last four years hev been the peace
, fullest of her life, and she's left he
= peace with you, for sure r'-Cleve
( land Plain Dealer.