Columbia courier. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1902-1905, 1903-11-20
A THANKFUL
THANKSGIVING
~~NNNN~N~~

- DON'T feel as if | should enjoy this
Thankssivin'," said Mrs. Joel Ms
y bett. looking down into the basket OF
.,ossy, red checked Spitzenbergs as if it
werc family vault and taking up an
apple as if it had been skull; no, l
"Then. Sarepta," observed her hus-
hand, who had just thrown huge log
m the open fire, "you don't disarn moth
In to be thankful for! It's as harnsome
turkey az ever tapped, and l don't
know Of a year when I've had nicer
pumpkins on that ar corn lot"
"Tain't turkey or pumpkin pies or
cranberry sass as makes Thanksg1vin,
sighed Mrs. Nisbett. b,
"What is it, then? Eff it's cold wealth
or, / should ha' thought the last frost
would ha' done the business for you
pretty fairly. Them artemisias by the
front door is scorched black, and the old
maple is losin' its leaves as IL they was
rainin' down. Parson Jarvis u CONAN
all the way from Sloatesvills to preach
tomorrow, and the quire's larned 4 bran
new anthem just a-purpose, about Dem
thankful for harvest and all that sort OF
thing. I'm sure l don't know what else
you'd have"
Mrs. Nisbett only answered BY sigh:
~ wonder If faint possible Stephell
be hum tonight" fhe said after a pause.
HE writ not. He thought he'd drop
In arly tomorrow mornin' If he caught
the train he expected. Only think, old
woman; IT'S FIVE years since Stsphs was
hum to Thanksgivin'"
Old Nisbett rubbed his horny handl,
with a chuckle, adding;
sand l s'pose, IL all accounts 10 true,
he's gettin' to be q great man out in
that western country. 1t was kind OF
harl pull when he went OF and lett u.s.
bu. maybe the boy was in the right"
YES" said Mrs. Nisbett dolorously,
"but somehow l can't get reconciled to
the idea of his marryin' 4 strange gal
out there"
Joel scratched his head. This was q
phase of the subject that he scarcely
felt competent to discuss.
Maybe you'll like her. Stephen says
she's nice gal"
stephen rays! As If man over head
and ears in love wouldn't say anything"
II wish he'd told us who she was.'
Mrs. Nisbett groaned again. Joel went
out to the woodpile, the everyday shrine
whence he generally derived what little
Of philosophic inspiration he had.
Mrs. Nisbettn'
1t was a soft little voice. and the old
lady's face relaxed instinctively as it
sounded on her ears 49,.
"Why, Ida Tremaine-'tain't your
ut u.s. I've done everything that Aunt
Constance wanted, and now I've just run
over to see il you don't need a bit OF
help"
She stood in the doorway, fair little
apparition, all flushed and rosy with the
November wind, while her blue eyes
sparkled as If they were twin sapphires
hidden away under her long, dark lashes.
She was neither blond nor brunette, but
a fresh checked girl, with nut brown
hair, skin like the leaf of damask rose,
a straight, refined nose and lips az ripe
" a red crabapple, though by no means
30 sour. Generally she had deinure
sort of gravity lingering about her race
but when she did laugh dimpie came
out upon her cheek and row OF peafy
teeth glimmered instantaneously' !.
In one hand she carried puheh Va
late autumn flowers. a.,
See" she cried, holding them up. II
ransacked Aunt Constance's garden 1or
these knew that big vase on the man
tel needed something, and, with branch
or so of scarlet leaves, I'll have royal
bouquet to help you keep Thanksgivins'
Mrs. Nisbett took the fair oval race
between her two hands and kissed the
fresh little mouth.
set down, Ida" she said. II wasn't
a-calculatin' to have no sech fixin's up,
but you've sech way, child, can't
never say no to you"
"But you're going to keep Thankssiv-
Ing" cried Ida, throwing of her outer
wrappings and dancing up to the looking
glass like a little gale of wind, because