Middletown transcript., 1906-11-24

tNAt.< $50 - ~ - - - - ~ -
both shelter and solacc, it clnl
neither be eaten nor worn, and
Mrs Hills found her small gar
den and occasional plain sewing
scant means Of support More
over, she often sighed when she
set out the one plate, cup and
saucer, and lon3ed or devotedly
believed that she did, to see
across the table the dropping
mustache and mild eyes Of the
amiable but impfoxident Joe,
The chief joy TO which her hos
pitabie heart looked forward each
year, and for which she planned
with an almost religious fervor,
was the gathering together in
the old home at Thanksgiving
time of her brothers and sisters
with their troop of children. 10
this end were laid aside the fig
est products of her little garddn,
but the buying of the pturkey
always came so near to collaps-
ing the limp sides of her little
purse, that this last year she had
thriftily determined upon raising
the festival sacrifice herself.
Accordingly early in the spring
four big. freckled eggs had been
confided to the care of a maternal
Plymouth Rock, of which invest
ment one full-grown turkey had
been the sole realization. How
ever, he seemed bent upon atom
ing for the premature detection
of the rest of his family. He
took on pounds aid pompousness
with fue disregard of fate, aud
by the time the first frost nipped
the morning g-glories over the
kitchen window Mrs. Hills pride
in her turkey was only equalled
by his pride in himself, though
that seemed threatening TO burst
him in a purple apoplexy.
Probably it is not true that
Mrs. Hills made her own meals
more sparing that she might sur
felt the turkey; but if she did,
her self-denial had the usual re-
ward, for that graceless bird
early developed habits Of un-
grateful truaEcy. The turkeys
of John Dawson roamed at will
over the broad Dawson acres,
and the widows turkey at every
opportunity solaced his loneli-
ness in the company of his kind.
Many times and YEARLY had
Mrs. Hills trudged across the
fields and driven him, gobbling
and rebellious, back to the little
garden, until at last, two weeks
. d
before Thanksgiving, she labor
iously built coop from the box.
and keg-staves and committed
her Thanksgiving bird to solitary
confinement.
1t had been a prudent move,
and all would have gone well had
the little widow been a better
carpenter, but misplaced blow
of the hammer and a nail gone
wrong had furnished the prison.
er his opportunity. Mrs. Hills
had recognized his darker color
and greater size in the flock
which fitted between the corn
shocks, and now. as she sat upon
his empty coop, there we're nm
mistakable tears in her eyes.
It would be almost i'm possible
to catch him after the ignolniny
of his Imprisonment and 60 to
John Dawson to recover her tur-
key she would not-no, not if she
had T. buy a turkey-though she
knew quite well that there were
just twenty-seven cents in that
snabby little purse behind the
clock.
John Dawson had a whole
flock of turkeys and everything
else that he did not need More
over, he had always been very
high and cool with her and no
more than polite TO poor Joe
while he lived; not at all cordial
and helpful, as an old schoolmate
and neighbor should be. Mary
Hills wiped away two more tears
rs she reviewed the shortcomings
-. Y
Of John Dawson, omitting en-
tirely y recall that it was size
who had first scorned John and
that he bad lived unmarried ever
since IL the midst Of villageful
If possible and aspiring Mrs.
Dawsons.
But none.of these extenuating
circumstances suggested Them
se'tes TO the widow as She rose
from the deserted coop and, going
0ut into the chill twilight, once
more swept her eyes over the
eorn held Nothing moving was
IA Aa seen there and Shp ffarnafl )