The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1903-11-20

letters, and as he looked back over
them, the happy occasions which other
Thanksgiving Days had been to him
came to mind-the glad welcome to
the Merivales' pleasant home, the old
fashioned Thanksgiving dinner, the
after dinner chat in the cosy parlor,
and, as twilight came on, the singing
of some familiar air, or a rollicking
college song in which voice and piano
seemed to blend far more sweetly than
anywhere else. But this was no more
to be. He might as we'll give up all
hope of passing the day ir the old
way, he said to himself, as lie pushed
his hands down deeper into his
pockets.
What had he done to vex Helen
saucy Helen, with the softest and mer-
riest Of brown eyes, and cheeks which
the sun and air had painted?
Every year of his college life thus
far he had never failed to receive an
invitation to spend Thanksgiving at
her parents house, and be had never
failed to accept it. He recalled how
eagerly he had awaited the postman's g
rap the evening before, fully expecting
to receive letter in the we'll known
handwriting, but none had come.
Assurcdly something had happened
to change Helen's feelings toward him
but, try as he might, no satisfactory
explanation presented itself.
Westlake, however, was not one to
give way to dependency. He had had
many disappointments in his college
course and had learned to bear them
philosophioally. He walked briskly
down to the frozen path, struck the
sidewalk and turned into the long
elm guarded street. The air was cold
and exhilarating, and he forgot bis
perplexities for the moment in a new
feeling of strength and life.
The streets we're we'll nigh deserted.
The market windows, whose Thanks
giving wares had been so temptingly
displayed the afternoon before, were
now nearly empty. Only few under
fed specimens of poultry remained ex-
posed to the gaze of possible purchas
ers, objects of keen envy, nevertheless.
to group of street urchins whose
patched trousers and ragged caps
spoke too plainly of a dnnerless
Thanksgiving. The sight gave West
lake suggestion: why not treat one
of these unfortunates to a good meal?
As he turned street corner one of
the youngsters overlook him. 1t was
the oldest son of his washwoman.
Harold had often seen him and had
once visited his home on the outskirts
Of the city.
"Here's my opportunity" he
thought, as he greeted the boy.
The lad was drawing small express
wagon loaded with large bundle of
washing. The students quick eye
took in the situation at glance. The
big load at which the boy tugged and
strained at every curbing, his own pale
face and thinly clothed form told
clearly of his home life, of his widow
ed, hard.working mother, and of the
little, hungry mouths to whom Thanks
giving would be day, like all other
days, of deprivation.
In his hasty survey of the boys
load, Westlake had caught sight of a
piece of crumpled paper in one corner
of the wagon, evidently waste bit
escaped from the linen. Picking it up
half unconsciously, he began to unfold
it. 1t was in feminine hand-a hand
that struck him at once as being
familiar, and each line was crossed by
a heavy pen stroke straight across the
paper. Glancing at the heading, he
saw his own name. Then the truth
flashed upon him; it was Helen's writ
ing. Making out with some difficulty
the scored lines, be read as follows:
"MY DEAR HARoLD-Dinner will
be served at halfpast five tomorrow
afternoon, and we wish you to be with
US as usual. If this conflicts with
some previous engagement, please
don't let it interfere. Perhaps your
new found friend will expect"
Here the note ended.
$50 the invitations cancelled"
thought Westlake. "What does she
mean by my new found friend, won-
der?" He folded the noe carefully,
and placed it in his pocket. "Fred,"
said be, turning to the lad at his side
whose attention during the reading of
the note had been divided between his
wagon and the shop windows, "take
home your washing and bring your
wagon back as soon as you can"