The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1920-12-01
Eoening Story
The Horn of PLENTY.
by CLARISSA MACKIE.

14 Sl4A1lC6A MACnlE.
Horn o Plenty FARM repeated
the postmaster, leaning over the coun-
ter and staring at the STABILITY dressed
young man with a worn suitcase.
well amt heard it called that in
twenty year
What is it called now?" asked the
stranger stiffly.
Nothing much" laughed the post
master. Might be called Rib Rock
amt much else but rocks and sand
left since old man Thatcher died"
Twelve years ago-he was my
grandfather. Robert Thatcher. He
left the farm to me-"
Want know. Been a long time
coming after it." grinned the native.
you must have known the place
was leased for ten years"
Yes-and if you ever collected any
Il haven't collected it-yet," said
the young man quietly.
Hum-going to live there?'
Yes, If / ever find the way!"
{, The postmaster smiled foolishly and
called a iounger from the listening
Seedy Jones's old place. Lennie, you
might take this gentleman along
there's a good hotel there if you don't
md accommodations at the Horn o.
Plentyi"
John Thatcher drove away in an an
Gent automobile that roved distract
eddy about the road and finally came
to a scrambling halt in front of a large
house set in the midst of overgrown
trees and thick shrubbery.
Cheerful outlook, amt it?" laughed
the youth called "Lennie," as he
turned his rafting machine about,
night before Thanksgiving and de-
serted heusei"
John Thatcher was silent as he sur
veyed his inheritance. Dreary, in
NJ co ~.
OF it, carried in his heart since he was
young lad. His grandfather's farm
mad been the pride of the countryside
then, and now. when fortune had
ceased to smile upon young John. he
had turned to the farm.
He would go back to that, alone,
perhaps. but it would only be for a
while-Helen Main had promised to
marry him when he could support
her. and he had proudly told her he
day, Horn of Plenty farm had been
his dream of fortune, and he found
this.
By 8 o'clock he had learned the
Worst-bare rooms, ill-used and UNI
clean, decaying porches and a peep
at the locked furniture stored away,
down to the very last toasting fork.
where they had been placed when his
grandfather died and the place was
rented. U
WonueF Wndt Helen would say
he thought miserably as he went back
to the hotel. In the morning he had a
snort note from Helen's father. 1--WE
Will motor out to your farm this
morning. Give us Thanksgiving din
| ner."
John Thatcher's lips snapped shut
| as he erammed the letter into the fire
So Helen's father really knew the
condition of the farm and was putting
him on his: mettle. They would arrive
at noon. He had five hours to work
and so little money. Well, it would be
a homemade Tha nksgiving-th best
he could do. and give thanks for that!
1t was slender chance, for James
Main was rich and prosperous
Lennie Brown and his car took John
Ihatcher out to the old place with a
load OF purchases. 81 guess there's
plenty of wood outside there and my
folks have some barrels of big red
apples-I1l bring some over" said
Lennie when he heard of the expected
guests.
The cid Thatcher place echoed to
the flying footsteps of the two young
men. From garnet to cellar they
went; the old pump squeaked as wa
ter was needed to mop up the floors
OF the big dining room and the kitchen
after vigorous sweeping. Then
breadths of rag carpets from the store
in the attic were laid down, and fur
niture carried down-a round walnut
dining table and chairs, baskets of
lavender sprigged china and kitchen
ware, and cedar chest gave up ta-
blecloths and napkins, yellowed With
age, and some of the old Thatcher sill
yer.
who says women's work is never
done?" groaned Lennie as he rubbed
the silver knives and forks.
Il hope they will like this fried
chicken" muttered John as he bent
over the great fire in the kitchen fire
place, where they were cooking over
some iron trivets they had discovered
in the attic.
Guess these sweet potatoes are
about done" said Lennie as he drew
them out of the ashes. I'm going out
to get some of those yellow and brown
chrysanthemums to put on the table.
and some more wood. Ma sent over
some jelly and cider and cream an"
the door closed on the list of Mrs
Browns generosity.
At IL o'clock John Thatcher looked
- -