The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1901-11-24


1 can see through"
Like a dutiful wife. Mrs. Standish
! accompanied him. In the drawing
room he lighted his pipe and was soon
| enveloped in a fragrant cloud of to-
bacco smoke.
What shall we do to amuse our
selves?" asked the elder Wilkinson
cousin, when the five were alone with
each other.
Lets tell Thanksgiving stories
while the apples are toasting," said
Miss Standish.
Il don't know any," said each of the
cousins, and Miss Standish said the
same, so to set them at ease she be-
gan, and told
THE STORY OF THE THANKLEss
MAN
Once upon a time back in the sos,
there was poor man who kept a cob
bier shop in a small New England viii
| lage. He worked day after day for a
tiny recompense and each day seemed
to grow poorer, until he could scracely
afford the water in which to soak the
leather. He tapped merrily, however,
when he had shoes to tap, and sang as
he worked, though now and then his
song stopped and he thought of the
men richer than he, of the squire on the
hill whose boots he had patched time
and again, and who beat him down in
price. The squire was rich, but a good
New Highlander who followed closely
the traditions of his ancestors.
One day, however, the cobbler's
luck turned and he found himself
growing richer. He hired an assistant
and then another, and work still in
creased. He was ingenious and seeing
that machine might be made to sew
the shoes, he constructed the machine
and discharged his two assistants.
And his work kept increasing so
that he was forced to take back his
| two assistants. who were ready to
come at smaller salary to keep from
starving, and to hire boy to run the
machine.
Then he made another machine that
not only sewed the shoes but cut the
pegs and fastened ON the soles When
| he had got this installed he reduced
! increasing so that he has to hire an
other boy
Time went on. He enlarged his shop
and cut salaries again to meet the ex-
pense. He made more machinery and
| bought house near the squire's And
again he cut the salaries Then he
built a brick shop and made shoes so
| cheap that all the cobblers in the
neighborhood had to hire out to him
for mere pittance to save their lives
and those OF their children.
| "One day he found that the boys and
girls could watch the machines as we'll
! as men, and live on less, so he dis
| charged the fathers and hired their
children at a greatly reduced wage
scale. -
After a while he became as rich as
| the squire and had a finer house So
| he decided to keep Thanksgiving in the
| way it ought to be kept. He invited
all his neighbors who were worth in
wiling, and as they sat around the ia
BILE the cobber that was got up and
| made speech He said that he
! thanked Providence for his prosperity
and that he was at last in sight of the
goal of his ambition He said he never
knew what it was to be thankful be-
! fore The people cheered and while
they We're cheering. somebody came in
and said the shop was on fire 1t
| seemed that some of the employees had
! set it so as to roast the leather they
! intended to eat for their Thanksgiving
! dinner. And while the cobbler and his
guests were watching the shop burn a
spark dropped on the roof of the house
and burned that too, and then the cob
Ter woke up and went on patching the
squire's boots and singing to himself"
us that all of it?" asked the Alden
cousin
NO" said Miss Standish. There's a
moral to it, but I can't think what it
is. Maybe I'll remember after you tell
your story"
The Alden cousin cleared his throat
and began to tell of
THANKSGIVING AT BLOODY
GULCH
Eighteen men were gathered in the
back room of Alkal likes saloon. list
ening to the jangling notes of an I'M
tuned piano, played by one OF their
number, while on a rude platform
stood a traveller from the East.
singing a song and watching every
minute to be shot. 1t was Thanks
giving eve, and the men had dropped
in to celebrate as they had never been
allowed to do at home. Mirth and
laughter and profanity filed the air,
drowning the singers voice which
quavered and flickered and now and
then nearly went out. From hand to
hand a black bottle circulated and its
contents slowly diminished.
THE mirth grew louder and louder
and still the stranger sung on, impelled
by what to him was an irresistible
force. Suddenly his voice fell, and it
rose again in the welI-known words
Mid pleasures and palaces"
Before the first words were out OF
his mouth, a hush fell on the assem-
blage and the rough, half brutal men,
some Of them almost in the last stages
of intoxication sat silent. The song
rose and fell in it's cadences and even
the pianist became quiet
As the chorus Of the second stanza
was reached a tall, unkempt man rose
suddenly to his feet, with a determined
look in his face.
"Pards." he said. 81 can't stand it no
longer" A shot rang out. and the
singer fell motionless on the platform.
A sigh of relief went up from the
eighteen men,"
Il had to do it." said the man who
had fired the shot. Il jest couldn't
think of him gettin' away from here
and goin' back east and writtin' a
story for some bum magazine about
crowd of loafers bein' moved to
tears when he sung Home, sweet
home"
THE boys gathered around him and
took his hand, their faces suspiciously
moist.
Jim" they said. you've saved our
good names, and now wen have a
Thanksgiving like we used to have
back home"
That's the end of it," said the Alden
cousin. 1T isn't altogether a Thanks
giving story. because it'll work as well
for Christmas or any other holiday"
7 don't like it very much" said Miss
Standish. ut isn't true to nature. 1
think they wouldn't have let him go any
further than the first word before they
shot him. Now it's the Standish