Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1903-11-26
"-'r'S 3.3..
SAVED BY
A DREAM
A Thanksgiving Story.

1t was late Thanksgiving eve when
my ball dress was sent home. and
Marie, my dainty fingered French
maid, had finished braiding my heavy
black hair and adjusted my new head
dress. an exquisite diamond bandeau.
Nora brought up the dress nicely fold
ed, and Marie sprang to take 1t from
its wrappings and lay 1t out or the
bed.
AS Marie lifted the dress and shook
Its rich folds q slip of paper fell to the
carpet. 1t was madam's bill. and 1 was
n little startled as my eye ran over it
5000! But then the trimmings, n rich
lace and cord dor were perfect. 1t was
an expensive dress, but l didn't think
1t would be quite that, and Mr.. Gordon
had said that money had been getting
tight for some time back. I wouldn't
show him The bill just yet. so 1 thrust 1t
into a drawer OF my dresser and turned
to Marie, who stood waiting to dress
me.
I was contemplating my reflection in
the mirror with much complacency
when the door opened and MIR. Gordon
came in. Fer n M l was half
frightened at his pale face and grave
air. but he said: Il only stopped for a
moment, Mrs. Gordon. to say that 1
shall not be able to join you at
madam's tonight. Business affairs
will keep me down town late"
Before I could ask him what he
thought Of my dress he passed out OF
the ROOM, n presently l heard the
street door close. 1t was nothing new
escort of my husband. for somehow he
was always immersed in business:
neither was 1t new for Mr.. Gordon to
look grave or pale, for he had lost his
fresh color these late years.
At length 1 was ready n was
driven to the home of Mime. Stapleton.
ball is SO similar to another in
the world OF fashion that to recount
how the hours passed in madam's
drawing rooms would be to tax your
patience. Sufficient to say that 1t was
long after the midnight chimes had
rung h / was handed from my car
riage to my own door by the most dis
tinguished gentleman of my set.
The atmosphere in the drawing Q
the temperature of the sharp Novem-
her night without. 1t was pleasant to
sit there with my dainty slippered feet
over the register and the waves OF
lustrous silk bathing the carpet and
reflect that I swan on the topmost
wave Of the sea Of fashion IN the city
around me, and the warm air stealing
up from tkc. register soOthed my senses
to delicious calmness.
Suddenly, while / sat thinking. from
the dim corners Of the drawing room
seemed to glide out q train OF figures
each dressed in unbelievable gar
ments Of bygone days. and yet. strange
to say. each garment vas recognized
by me as something that I had worn IL
those days, and in h face OF each fg
ure turned toward me I beheld my own
The figures glided around me. the
seated themselves on the opposite sid
Of the apartment. each looking at m
~xrn1tV~, md ~ytfh INV own dark Rv0S
Gradually the figure nearest my rtgh
seemed to Invest itself with the acces
soties of q picture. n = thin mist hi
the others from my sight.
A child OF 10 summers stood in tn
yard of an old broken farmhouse. wit
the wcstering light Of the sunse
streaming over the gliding and bath
ing her tiny fingers "a a flood Of gold
i did not speak even In a whispe
while the picture Of my entire child
hood was unrolled before me. bu
thoughts like these gltded athwart m
brain: " Was l one that happy heart
ed. wild. rOmping child whose Creates
a r was to please her parents an
whose greatest grief the los Of som
woodland pet?"
Even while / sat gazing the seen
slowly faded, and out from the dill
mists that had infc:ard the figure neal
est tho child rose fair and clear I'll
second picture before me.
! "A slender, beautiful maiden stood
the moonlight beneath the rustic pore
draped with h~oneysuckles that cllmbe
oyer the farmhouse door,. 1t was Dais,
!, but n child no longer. She wore u mel
/ but simple dress Of pale pink muslil
and q single white r0oe plucked fro
the bush beside the doorstep adognt
her hair. Suddenly q firm step can
up the walk leading to the farmhous
~ t.H.IfEa ~ NLE.