Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1921-11-24
a Real
thanksgiving
frederick Hart
.oN<Je

9, 1921 by Mcclure newspaper syndicate.
II don't see why he didn't write"
said Mrs. Halden pettishly. "Of
course Pm glad he's coming home for
Thanksgiving, and all that, but he
might have given me longer notice.
But that's just like Bob-always drop
ping in like tornado with no more
than a telegram the day before he
comes-and how I'm to get his room
ready, 1 simply don't see l have the
dinner to attend to, and goodness
knows it's hard to get things these days
without making preparations for an
other guest. If he'd only written!
All he had to do was to sit down a
week ago and write"
"Now, mother, don't get all wor-
ried" pretty Barbara Halden slipped
an arm around her mothers ample
waist 81 know you've a thousand
things to do, and Bob's coming makes
1t harder-but you just go ahead and
manage the dinner I'll fix his room
and everything"
BLESS your heart, dear, run along
and get it ready. I'm always gald to
see Bob" Her speech was cut short
by the abrupt exit of her daughter,
who danced off up the stairs followed
by her mothers call. "Be sure and
put out the smoking tablet You
know how Bob likes his pipe!"
"All right, mother dear-I will !"
And Barbara sped to the little room
under the caves that had been sacred
to Bob Holiday since the time, two
years ago, when he had first come
to their town to practice law and had
taken up his residence under Mrs.
{ Haldens hospitable roof which, he
declared almost offered comforts
enough to make him forget that he
ever had had any other home.
. Since that summer when he had
saved Mrs Haldens little savings and
her home from the clutches of a grasp
ing syndicate of real estate sharks,
he had been like a son to the good
woman. She had let him do very
much as he pleased around the house,
and had even limited at his paying no
board, but Bob had insisted on giving
her what he termed a ridiculously in
adequate sum each month.
When success brought him fame and
fortune he had refused to take UP 9th
er lodgings, claiming that he enjoyed
the home cooking and the home asso-.
Citations of the little brown house near
the edge of the town more than he
could ever like the garish splendors
Of a hotel or the loneliness of bach
elor apartments.
For the past two months he had
been travelling in the West on a big
railroad case. His sudden wire, re-
ceived the day before Thanksgiving,
had been the first apprisal of his re-
turn that Mrs, Halden had had
Now as she busily arranged her
kitchen in preparation for the manu-
featuring of a dinner that should sur
pass all her former efforts in that
line, she blessed the chance that
brought cher boy" as she called Bob,
home at the holiday season, while she
outwardly feigned great irritation at
his unceremonious announcement of
his return.
Meanwhile, up in Bob's room, Bar
bara was busily putting things
straight, spreading clean linen on the
bed, arranging the cover on the dress
err, seeing that the smoking table was
supplied with matches and trays for
Bob's ever present pipe, and generally
making things fresh and sweet for the
reception Of her hero For Barbara,
Bob was a good deal of a hero, though
even to herself.
She attacked the dresser last of all,
intending to take out of the drawers
any odds and ends that might be in
them and leave space for shirts. col
lars and other articles of masculine
apparel.
The big lower drawers were empty,
an6 beyond quick glance in search
of truant dust she did nothing to
them: but one Of the small top draw
ers stuck obstinately in the manner
of some drawers. She. gave a hard
tug the wood remained obdurate; she
set her teeth and pulled violently
The next moment she was sitting on
the floor with the recalcitrant drawer
upside down in her lap and a lot of
odd-looking papers scattered about
With little laugh and a shrug at
her awkwardness She rose and stopped
to gather up the papers. AS she
picked up one scrap, larger than the
others, she happened to glance at it,
and something that was written on the
top gripped her attention. With the
blood dyeing her cheeks, she read:
ITO Barbara.
Below were some lines of poetry.
She read them through They were
not so good, as poems go; in fact
there were spots where the meter halt,
ed and staggered. and the rhymes
were not above criticism; but to the
heart of the girl who read them, they
were more beautiful than any words
of the greatest singers of all time.
For there in written words was ay