6erritsot, Vrofrittor.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
Cke Riontro.q Dimorrat,
PUDLISiIL•D TIT
ANDREW J: GERRITS ON.
t erm ,..... 41.50 per annum if paid in ad
vance, $2.00 if paid within the year b or, 11.60
if not paid•until the -end of the year or period
of subscription: Advance payment solicited.
Discontiattances optional %%WI the Publisher
until all arrearages are paid.
Hate.% of Advertising.
One square; (f 2 lines) 3 Weeks or .less, 41.00
gO:h subsequent insertion, •-- 28
thle square one year,- $B.OO, two sq'rs $12.00,
three squares $16.00, four squares $20.00.
Business Cards of six lilies $3.00 per year.
Job Work of all kinds executed., neatly
land promptly. Blanks always on hand.
January Ist. 1857
WM• W. SMITE, :8e CO.;
Cabinet and Chair illanuiaetter
eri, root of Main Street. Moutrose, Pa:- "
ABEL TITRRELL, I\ioTudsE,
• Dealer in Drugs:., Medicines, -Chemicals,
Dps Stuffs, Glass-ware,;Paints, Oils, Yarnishes,
'Window Glass, Gcocerk, Fancy Goods,
eiry; Perfumery, &c.-4nd Agent' for all th'e
. most popular Patent edicines.
JOHN ROVES ,
•
FashiOnablelor—Shop near fhe
Baptist Meeti6g !lons on Turnpike Street
. Montrose, Pa.
•.' A.114. - ` THROP & CO . ,
-
Dealers in Ready-Made Clothing, flats and
cipir, Boots and Shoes, Dry Goods, &e.
Or Store apposite Seayle:s- hotel,Montrose,
(
• 1:DR ( R. -THAYER, '
.Physician and Surgeon, Montrose,
Pa. Of&o . in the Farmer's Store.
• - :FRANKLIN FRASER,"
Attorney: avid Conasellor at Law,
.Montrose, Pa.; will attendfaithfully to all busi
ness entrusted to him in tlio'County of Snstfa.
ConveYaneine and,writing of all kinds will be
done neatly, and chargesmiiderate. H e will also
attend to proiecution of claims ofsoldiers; their
.widows and heirs, against the U. S. Govern
inent, for Bounty-Land, Pensions, &c.
May be found at all hqnrs at the office formerly
•eccnp'red by 7:- T. Richards, Esq., north of the
Court House.=lBsB-13.
- - M. C. TYLER, -
Interested with I. L Hunt„
:rimpiarter and DOiler in Hardware ano
• Cutlery, Carriage Trimmings, Sprin s, &e.
No. 215. Pearl Street, Y.
Viniere his Meteantile friends, in thts and oi - irtn
Counties, are kindFy invited, and EARNESTLY SO
'Hefted to call and purchase. Gtf.
J.D. VAIL, FL D.,
Physician and Surgeon, has perms
netly lorattad himself at Braekneyville, Snsq'a
County, and will promptly attend to alli
'calls with which he may he favored.
May,,1856---n32.
HAYDEN BROTHERS, • " •
New Milford, Venn'a. •
~. •
VlTholeiale dealer in Buttons, Combs.
.1 V Suspenders, Threads. Faney Goods,
Watches, Jewelry, Silver and Platted Ware, Cut
lery; Fisbina Tackle. Cigars, &c.
Merchants and pedlars, supplied on liberal
_
WM. TIAYDEN, TRACY HAYDEN;
JOHN HAYDEN, GEO_ HAYDEN.
-131
DR. E. F. WiLMOT, ';
fit raduat of the AllQpathic and Hornet).
panic , Colleges of Medicine, is now per-
Asanentlilocated in Great Bend Pa. _
April Ist. 18;it3. • •
, •
JOHN SAUTTER,
. .
Vashioßtable : Tailor. Shop first door
12 north of the Farmer's Store. . •
TILE 11VT 7 43
irk i~ Niairs , lo I h :; - 4) . rtsuranit
OF PfiIt.PAJELPHIA,- •
No. SG 'Mitt' in t!it., a bore Fourth.
L CAPITAL S300;000.
- Make'lnsitrance against lose or damage ley
Fire ; 6;i 13 aild ings, Fu rit it uTe and
- .3fercleandise generally,
horses - and Cattle;" against death
. from anycause.
Fir'LOSSES PROMPTLY ADJUSTED.,
DIIIE-CT•ORS:
(
A. R. Mita. r„ J. CF.OASDALE,
J. 113.. FLAN 'JEN, , F. S. lioEcntv,.
HENRY JO.' S, SAML. 3..RAI.CDALL
CIiAS. FL NICE'S, of Wilmiogton,Del.,
Wll. CAR .RET, Sec, - . - ,-
- ..„-i-1 B. R. 111 : ILLE P, Presl.
, • ;BILLINGS STROUD, Agent.
autfaiturers' hsuranft
Charter Perpetual. Granted by the Suite .of
Pennsylvania.
CAPITAL $500.000,-
Fi re, nari tie and Inland TranspOr
_
• Itati,ou.
•
' AARO7N S. LIPPINCOTT, President.
W'. A: Rtionr.s, Vice Pres't.
ALFRED WEER'S, Secretary.
DIRECTORS. -- •
;Aaron S. tipincOtt, Charles Wise,
WM.' A. Rhodes, Alfred Weeks, ; •
Wm. Thomas, Rinaldo Sank,
WM.' Neal,- John P. Simmons;
Charlei J. Field, James P. Smith:
,Office ?10. 10 Merchant's Exchange,Phira'.
AOC BULLARD, Agent, 3.lontiose, Pa.
40y 1
10113-1,
:MO,NTROSE., P 1
• -.! -- 4 1[1HE subscriber having purehas d,
*BSI
refitted and newly furnished lie
. • abo.ves well known and popular Ho el,
—is prepared - to accommodate the tr
cling- public and others with all the attentitns
and' conveniences usually found in first:cl
Houses; No effort will be spared by the P i ro
prietor and hii - Assistants to make the Hotel
equal in every point to any in the country.
The Bar will always be supplied with the
Choicest Lisuchs.
The Stables, connected with this House
aro large, roomy and convenient; and catefuf and
Attentive Hostlers are always in chaige of them.
J. S: TARBELL.
MontEose, May l alh; 1857:
LOTHS, Cash inaers and Vestings, very
rsb I e styles, at prices that cannbt fail - to
Vilt..Call told be convinced. C. %V. mon .
•
From Mrs, Stevens' Magazine for February.
IVIOPSEY.
AY Ct3RNEILITB MATHtWS.
I see old Sylvester Peabody—the head of
the Peabody family—seated on the porch of
his country dwelling, like an ancient patri-'
arch, in the calm of the morning. His broad
briMmed hat lies on the bench at his side i and
his venerable white locks floW down his
shoulders, which time, in one hundred seasons
of battle and sorrow, of harvest and drouth—
of toil and death, in all Ns hardy .wrestlings
with old Sylvester, has riot been nhle'to bend.
HThe old man's form is erect' and tall, and
lifting up his head to its height, he looks afar,
down:the country; road which lads from his
rural door, 'towards the city. He has kept'
his gaze in that direction for,. better than an
how-,and a mist has gradually - orept upon his
vision; objects begin to lose their distinct
_ness ; they grow dim of soften away like
ghosts.or spirits; the whole landscape melts
gently'into a pictured dew before him. Is old
Sylvester, who has kept it clear and bright so,
'long, losing his sight at lait, or is our com
mon world ; already changing , . under the old
patriarch's pure regard, into that better, heav
enly land I
It seemed indeed, on this very - calm morn
ing in November, as angels were busy about
the Old Hoinestead. The fair country lay in
A delicious dreamy slumber.' The trees did
not stand forth-boldly with every branch and
leaf, but rather seemed gentle pictures of trees,
the sheep bells from the hills tinkled goftlyos
if whispering a secret to the wind; the birds
,sailed slowly to and fro on the air; there was
no harshness in the low of the herds, not a
sight nor a sound near by nor far off, whith
did not partake cf the holy beauty of the,
morning, nor sing, nor be silent, nor stand
still, nor move, with a..v other than a gliding
sweetness and repose, oi'an undertone whi c h
might littre been the echo, on earth, of a bet
ter sphere. There was a tender sadnesi and
wonder in the face of old Sylvester,,. when
voice came stealing in upon the silence. It
did not in a single tone_tlisturb the heavenly
hat MC;ll%* of the . hour, for it was the voice I f
the orphan dependent of the house, litliriam
Haven, whose dark bright eye tind graceful
form glimmered, as though she were the spirit
of all the softened beauty of the scene, from
amid the broom corn, where she was busy - in
one of the duties of the season. Well might
she sing the. song of lament, fur her people
had gone down far away in the . sea, and her
lover—where was he?
Like every other cogdition of-the time, the
voice of Miriam ; too, had a change in it,
"What wonder is this?" said old Sylves
ter; "I neither see nor Lear as I used—are all
mv, senses Foing!" •%.
Ile turned as he - spoke,- to a woman. of
small stature, in whose features dignity and
tenderness Mingled, as she now reg,arded him
with reverence for the ancient head of the
Louse. She came forward, as he addressed
ber;so.4 laying her band gently on Lis arm,
said— • •
" Yt,u forget, fattier; this is the Indian
summer, which is the first • summer softened
and soberer:and °P en comes at tl•anksgiving
time. It always changes tte-country..as you
see it now."
"Child, chid, yob are right. I should
have known it, for always at this season,often
RS it has .corne•to me, do I think of the ab
sent and the dead—of times and hours and
friends, long, long passed away. Of those
whom I Uve known," he continued eagerly,
"who have fallen in battle, in the toil of the
field, on the highway, on the waters, in silent
chambers, by sickness, and by sword ; I thank
God they have All, all my kith and kin and
people', died with their names untouched with
crime; all," he added with energy, planting
his feet firmly on the ground and rising as he
spoke sternly; " all - save ono alone, and
He turned towards the female at his side,
- and when he looked in her face, and saw the
mournful expression which came upon it, he
dropped back in •his chair and stayed his
speech. .
At this moment a little fellow, who; with
his flaxen locks and blue eves. was a very
,cherub in plumpness, came toddling out the
door of thehouse, struggling, with a basin of
yellow corn, which shifting about in his arms,
he just managed to keep possession of till he
reached old Sylvester's knee. This Was little
Sam, the yonngest of the Peabody's and as
looked up into his grandfather's face you
could not fail to - see, though they grew so
wide apart, the same story of: passion and
character in 'each. The little fellow began
throwing the bright grain from the basin to a
great strutting turkey which went marching
'and
- gobbling up and, down the doorvarcr,
swelling his feathers, spreading, hie tail, and
shaking his red neck tie with a boundless
'pretence and restiesMes, like many a hero, be
was proud of his u'nifotm, 'although the fatal
hour which was to lay bit low was not far
off. It was the thanksgiving turkey, himself,
in process of fattening under charge- of Mas
ter Sam Peabody. Busy in the act, he was
regarded with smilinifondness by his mother,
the widow Margaret Peabody, and his old
grandfather, when he suddenly turned, and
" Grandpa, where's brother Elbridge ?"
The old man changed his countenance and
struggled a moment with himself.
"He bad better know all," he said after a
,pause of thought, in which he looked, or
seemed to look, afar off from the scene about
him. "Margaret, painful though it be, let
the truth be spoken."
An inexpressible anguish overspread the
countenance of the widowed woman, and she
turned aside to breathe a prayer of trust and
hope in the hour of trial.
The thanksgiving turkey, full of his banquet
of corn, strutted away to a slope in the sun by
the roadside, and little Sim Peabody renewed
his question.
" Can't I see brother Ethridge, grandpa ?"
"Never again,l fear my child."
" Why not, grandpa V'
"Answer gently, father,"'the widow inter
posed, "make not the case '.too harsh against
ny boy
"Margaret," Said the old man, lifting his
cbuntenancc upon - her with a dignity of look,
"it shall 'speak the truth. I would have the
name of my race pure of all stains and de
tractions, at it has been for a hundred years,
but I would not bear htirdly against your son,
Margaret, This child, ifinoteat attd tinswity
ed as be is, shall' hear it, ,and shall be the
judge."
. .
. ..
'
WE ARE ALL EQUAL BEFORE GOD AND THE CONSTITUTION.";-3innes litichana.p.
- ,
trose, %usqtteiptititti Conntil, pemett, Ckursail gornini2, I:thriarg. 11, !&58
Rising, old Sylvester, with Margaret's help,
lifted the be k y to, the deep window seat; and,
standing on either hand, the window and the
old man each athis side, Sylvester, taking one
hand of the child in his, began—
" It is, Int , child, a year ago this .day, that
an excell'ent] man, Mr. BarbarY; the preacher
ofihis neighborhood, disappeared from among
living men.[ He was blameless in life, helad
no enemy on the face of the earth. flu was
a simple, worthy man.. The last time alive,
he was seed in company with your brother
Elbridge, b the Locust wood, near the pond
where you oto gather huckleberries in the
summer, atld buds in the autumn. .He was
seen with him and seen no more."
" Is Mr. Barbary dead, grandpa !" the child
inquired, 14ming forward.
"How else! He is not to be found in pul
pit or field.' No man seeth his steps any more
in their an ieot haunts.- No man hearkens to
his voice."
The chil sat for n moment in dumb !talon
ishment, glancing with distended eves and
sweat upo his brow, fearfully from the stern
face,Otthe old man, to the downcast features
of 1113 wid 1 w, when recovering speech he ask
ed: •
" Why should my brother kill Mr. Bitrhary,
if,he wss his friend Was, not Elbridge ,al
ways kind,; mother ?"
"Ever kind! There was not a day be did
not make glad his poor mother's heart, with
some geneilous act of devotion to her.'
"Maiig4et,
.you forget. He was soft of
heart, but proud of spirit, and - haughty beyond
his age; you may not remember, even I could
not alwaytt look down his anger ; orsileKe
his loudneSs of speech. Why should he kill
Mr. Barbary ? I wilt tell you child : the
preacher, 00, had discerned well your broth
er's besettihg, sin, and being fearless in duty,
from the Sabbath pidpit lie snake of it plain
ly, and. With such point that it could not fail
to come home directly to the bosom of the:-
young man. This was on the very Lord's dity
before Mr.; Barbary disappeared from amongst
us. It rankled in your brother's bosom like
poison; Mit, passions were wild and ungovern
ed, and this was cause enough. If he had
been innocent, why did Elbridge Peabody
flee this neighborlood„like a thief in the
night r I ,
Wh'y did Elbridge leave us, mother r
said the i child; bending, eagerly towards
the widow, who wrung her hands and was
silent.
" Ile murky come , back," said the chihi,sha
king his flaxen locks, and not abashed in the
least by hOr silence. "He may come back
yet and e. plain all to.
•• Neve
At tha
stood wit
very moment a red rooster w ho,
his burnished wings on the garden.
enough to have heard all that pas
up his throat, and poured forth a
which rang through the piaci e air
• de.
w3ll, nea
.teti, lifted
clear cry,i
far and IN'
" lie w,
ll—l know he will," said little Sam
leaping . down from his judgment
•window. `'Chanticleer knows he
It would riot speak in that way. Lie
wed once Faure, you know, grand
ee Elhridge went away ; we II hear
Sher soon, I know we. know
Peabody
scat in th
will, or 1.1
hasn't. cr
Ifattier, si
from bro
We'sball ?I'
The sled patriarch of the fimily Lowed his
head aua was Silent. From the broom corn
the gent) voice stole again :
The m rnatir of Miriam's musical lamenting
had scar ely died away on the dreamy air,
when tit re came hurrying forward from the
grrden-4wLere she had beim tending the
great thrinksgivinff pumpkin, which was her
special eharge—the black servant of the
househol I, Mopsey, who, with her broad fring
ed cap tlyiag all abroad, s and her great eyes
rolling, FJpoke out as she approached—
" 1)o hear dat, massa ?"
r nothing, Mopsey."
don:t you beget :now lley're coin-
lug!'
She h
in the d
of dust,
wheeled
in less
d scarcely spoken when there arose
-tame down the road, a violent cloud
from which there emerged a two
vehicle, at a thundering pace, which,
han a minute's time. went whirling
Homestead. It was supposed to
pact ti
Captain Saltonstall and wife; but
It the gpoed alai dust, no eye could
entanin
%%hat w
II ev ,, 7,1)
they we
came S
horse,
i Lion, of'
I•s.ed with at•,v accuracy who or what
e. In le -s than a minute snore it
, eeping back with the - great white
wing the libase again like an appar
e ghost of horse and gig. With
another sally doWn the road and return, with
a kn, . urve in the road before the Home
stead, it at last came to at the gate, and dis
closed i. a high sweat and glowing all over
/
his hug person, the jovial captain s and at his
aide his pretty little cherry faced girl of a wife.
l t
llenriet a Peabody,daughter of William Pea
body,.bo be it known, is old Sylvestes
•
D. There also emer g ed from the one
g, aker
,t he captain\ had made ground
ped his little wife thjhe same landing .
ms, a red faced boy. who must have
sely stowed somewhere, for he came
e vehicle highly colored, - and looking
ch as if he bad been sat upon for a
.f hours of more. The captain having
is horse from the traces, and at old
oldest s
horse g
and ill
in his a
been cl
out of t
1
very In ,
couple
freed
•r's suggestion, set him loose in the
r d to g,raze at his leisure, Pushed for
pon the balcony very much in the
Sv ices
doorya
ward
er of a good natured tornado, saluted
ow Margaret with a whirlwind-kiss,
ittle Saw high in the air and caught
he came within half an inch of the
char
the wi
threw
him as
shook the old grandfather's readily
d hand with a sturdy grasp, and
up for a moment, with a great cuff
.ide of the head with a roll of 'stuff for
gown for Mopse, saying as he de
it, " DAv
ere,
at d r ye say to dat, Dar-
ground
extend:!
wound'
on the
anewi
livered
key !"
. ey blightened' into a sort of nocturnal
ation, and shuffling away, in the loose
o the keeping of which on herfeet the
calf of the best energies of her life was
, gave out•that she must be looking
me important business over to Brun-
I-.ss than twenty minutes the captain had
I d done so many good natured things,
• wed himself so. free of heart withal;--
tle considerate of self or the figure he
at in spite of
his great clumsy person
slash in his face, and the scunewhat
ant character of his dress, his coat he-'
stc, as long and straight in the line
the hack as the edge of a table, you
otlelp regarding him as a decidedly
ade; well thsei, 3, and quite a hand
rson; in the ootainiassed with
ole family for a floe looking man.
In I
said a
.ad s
. ,
.4 . /ross l
could
. well ~;
Presently Mopsey carne.rushing along at a
great speed, for several paces, and suddenly
came to a halt, during which her head disap
-1 peered, and then renewed her pace, repeating
the peculiar manoeuvre once in every ten
yards. She was shuffling on in her loose
shoes (which were on and off, one or the oth
er of thorn every other minute,) at as rapid a
rate as that peculiar species of .-locomotion
allowed. Bursting with some impatience and
the importance of her communication, her
cap flaunting from her head; she - stood bfore
them and announced," We've beat Brundage
—we've heat Brundage!"
" What is thii, Mopsey i" old Sylvester in
quired.
"I've tried it, and I've spanned it. I can't
span ours!"
On further questioning, it appeared that
Mopsey had been on a ptlgrimage to the next
neighbor's the Brundage s, to inspect their
thanksgiving pumpkin, and institute a com
parison with the Peabody growth of that kind
with a highly satisfactory and complacent re
stilt as regarded the home production. No
body was otherwise than pleased at Mopsey's
innocent rejoicing, and, when she had been
duly complimented on her success,she 'went
away with a broad black guffaw to set a trap
iu the garden for the brOwn -mouse, the .sole
,surviving enemy of the great Peabody thanks
giving pumpkin which must be plucked next
day for use, and _whichshe insisted that they
should all inspect. -
Old Sylvester rose with his staff, which be
carried more fur pleasure than necessity, and
led the way. As they approached there was
visible throngh the plants, shrubs, and other
growths of the place—whatever they might
be—n great yellow sphere or ball, so disposed
on a little slope by itself, - as to catch the eye
front a distance, shining out in its golden hue
from the gatden,a sort nftiral to the sun him
self. rolling overhead.
" I -what &rye tick °Nat I" Mopsey
asked, forgetting in her granduer of the mo
ment all distinctions of class or color; " I
guess lot's
"That's a pumpkin," said the captain calm-
" Yes, I guess it is—de tank giving pun
Mopsey condescended net another word,
but walking or rather shuffling disdainfully
away muttered to herself, " Dat is de. very
meanest man, for a white man, I elicr did see ;
lie looked at dat dere punkin which his cost
me so many anxious days and sltepless nights
—which .1 have Watched over as though it
hail been my own child—which I planted
~••t~t Jts !lei; nand 'of my own, and fought fur
agin de June bugs. and de white frost, and dat
mouse dat's been tryin to eat it up for dis
tree weeks and better—just as if it hail been
a small green cowcumber. I donTbiAive dat
man k►.ows it is tanksgi% in. Ile's a ,greilt big
. fool."
" There was no question where the children
were to lodge, fur there had been allotted to
them from time immemorial, ever since chil
dren were known in the Peabody family, a
great rambling upper chamber, with beds in
the corners, where th.q were always bestowed
as soon after dark as they, could be conveyed
thither under direction of Mopsey and the
mistrb.ss of the household. This was not al
ways easy of achievement,-and costs the shuf
fling black servant at least half an hour of
diligent search and struggling persuasion to
bring them in from the various straying,
escapes, and !urk'ng places, where they
shirked to gain, an extra half hour of free
dom.
As soon as Mopsev bad left them abovo,
they all darted from bed, an.l commenced, in
the middle of the chamber, a great pillow
fight, amicable and hurtless, but furiously
waged, till the approach of a broad footstep
sent them sc.amperinr , back to their couches.
Mopsey, well aware of these frisks, tarried till
they were blown - over, in her own chamber
hard bv—a. dart room, mysterious to the fan
cy of the children,with spinning wheels, dried
gourd-shells hting against the wall, a lady's
siding s a ddle, now out of use this many a day,
and all the odds and ends of, at ancient
farm house ,stored in heaps and" strings
about.
It was - only at last by going aloft and inov
ing a trap in the ceiling, which was cctnect
eif in tradition "with the appearance of a ghost
that they were at length fairly sobered down
and kept in bed, when Mopsey, looking in for.
the last time, knew that it was safe to go be
low. They had something left even then,and
kept up a talk from bed to bed, fur,a good
long )lour mote, at least.
" What do you think of the turkey?" be
gan little Sam Peabody. .
"I don't know," Peabody Junior answered,
" I don't care for turkeys"
Little Sam Peabody, the master'of the tur
key, tool: th!i•Very much at heart.
"I think he's a very fine one,--twice as big
as last year's." . '
It)bert relented., • ,
"As fine a turkey as I've ever seen; when
do.tkev kill Lim?'
Sam struggled a little with himself, and
answered feebly, " to morrow."
There was a sileuee for several minutes,
broken presently by Peabody Junior.
" Don't you miss some One. to niht that
used to keep us awake with telling pleasant
stories?"
" I do," answered Sam Peabody. lam
just thinking of him now. 1 wish be was back
again."
A gentle 'figure had quietly opened the
chamber door, and stood listening widi breath
less attention to th'a discourse of the two chil
dren.
^ " tou wait and see," continued little Sam
firmly," I'm Sure hell eomii back, and befori_t
long.?
" What makes you think so? I hope he
will."
" Because the red rooster," answered little
Sam," crowed yesterday morning for the first
time since he went away, and the red waster
knows more than anybody about this farm,
except old grandfather."
'Thinking, how that could be, reabcxly Jun
ior fell asleep; and little Sam, sure to dream
of his absent brother, shortly, followed after.
The gentle figure of hfiriam haven glided in
to the chamber, to the bedside of little Sam,
and watching his calm, innocent features—
which were held to greatly resercible those of
the absent Elbridge----,with tears in her eyes
sh'e.breathed a. blessing from her very heart
on the dear child who had faith in the atsent
one. , • - .
Thanksgiving morning came, calm, clear
and beautiful. ft Atil,lcios; . as if of Lep-item,
and nut of earth, ruled thewide tandscaric.--
j The Indian simmer, which bad been- as a
gentle* mist o'r veil upon the beauty of the time
had gone away a little—retired as it were,in
to the hills and back country, to
_allow the
undimmed heaven to shine down upon the
happy festival of families and nations. The
cattle stood-still in the fields without a loW;.
the trees were quiet as in friendly recognition
of-the spirit of the hour; no reaper's hook or
mower's seethe, glanced in the meadow no
rumbling wain was on the road. The birds
alone, as being snore nearly akin to the feeling
of the scene, warbled in the boughs.
But, out of the silent gloom of the mist there
sprang, as if by magic, a lovely illumination
which lit the country far and wide, as.with a
thousand sari-colored laMps.
Then breakfast, being early dispatched,there
was a mighty running toand fro of the grown
people through the house, dresses h s urried front
old clothes presses and closets, a loud de
mand on every hand for pins, of which there
seemed to be (as there always is on such oc
casions) a great lack. The horses were put
to the captains gig, the old house wagon,with
breathless expectation on the part of the chil
dren ; and in brief, after-bustling preparation
and, incessant summoning of one memlair of
the family and another from the different
parts of the house, all being at last ready and
in their seats, the Peabody's set forth for the
Thanksgiving Sermon at the country Meeting •
house, a couple of miles away.
While the quaint preacher urged the ra
tional enjoyment of Thank-giving cheer from
the pulpit, Mopsey labored With equal zeal
at home to have it worthy of enjoyment. At
an early hour she had cleared decks, and taken
possession of the kitchen—kindling,
,with
dawn, a great lire in the oven for the pies,
and- anetper on the hearth for the tarlcey.
But it wai from the oven, heaping it to the
top with fresh relays of dry wood, that she
expected the Thanksgiving anger to walk in
all his beauty and majesty, In performance
of her duty, and from a sense only that -there
could be no thanksgiving without a turkey,
she planted the tin oven on the hearth, spit
ted the gobbler, and from time to time, mere
ly as'a matter of absolute necessity, garb it a
turn ; but about the niouth of the great i even
she hovered constantly, like a : had her
head in and out at the opening every other
minute ; and when at last the pies were slided
in upon the warm bottom, she lingered there
regarding the change they were undergoing
with the fond admiration with which a bon
noisseur in sunset hangs upon the changing
colors of 'the evening sky. The leisure of
this duty• snowed her was employed
by Mopsey in seariw away the poultry and
idle young chickens which rushed in . at the
back entrance of the . kitehen in swarms, and
hopped pith yellow legs about the floor with
the racket of constant falling showers of corn.
Upon the half-door opening on the front the
red rooster had mounted, and wifb his heal
on one side, observed with a knowing eye all
that went forward; showing,' perhaps, most
interest in the turning of the spit, the im
palement of the , turkey thereon having been
with him at: ob j eet of special consideration.
Meanwhile, Miriam opened the old Family
Bible, and, at the widow Margaret's request,
read from that chapter which gives the story
of the prodigal son. Bow the fair young
face brightened, when she read that the youna
man resolved to arise and return to the house
of his father ; the dear encounter; the rejic•
ing over his return, and the glad proclama
lion, son, was dead and is alive a
gain he-was lost and is found.'
"If he would come back even so," said the
wid wkel the book was closeci,"in s mow,
in poverty, in crime even, I would thank Goa
and be grateful." ,
"He is not guilly,motheriMiariam pleaded.
casting her head uPon the widow's bosom and
clinging close about her neck.
Margaret answered, lifting up her head,-
"guilty or innocent; he is my son—my soh."
Mopsey came in from the kitchen ; inter
rupting them, she several steps'from
the door-sill into the room, then lifted up
both her arms. ,
"One thing I know," said Mopey, "dere's
a big pie taking iu dat ere oven. and . if Mas'r
Elbriclue don't eat dat pie luif to sour,
dat I know."
alSrhitt is it, Mopsey," asked Margaret,
" that gives ydir 'such a faith in my son ?"
" I tell you what it is, Missu.," Mop Fey an
swered promptly ; "last tanksgivin %;Iten I
tumbled down on dis ere self same floor brini n'
in de turkey, everybody laugh - but Mast!. El
bridge, and he conic from his-place and pick
me up. He murder anybodyl eat de
whole tanksgvin dinner mysef if he touch a
hair of de old preacher's head to hurt it.--
Suddenly changing her tone, she added,
" Dey're oornin from the meeeting, I heard de
old wag on."
As the Peabodys approached the bomb
,
,head, the stroke' of the kitchen chimney was . '
visible, circling upwards, and winding about
in the sunshine as though it had been a deli
clue
corkserew uncorking a square old flask
of a delicious vintage. The ova) averred
I a quarter of a mile away, the moment they
had conic upon the brow of the hill, that he
, had a distinct savor of the fragrance of the
turkey, and that it was quite as refreshing as
the first odor of the land breeze coining in
from sea. The captain's conjecture - was
strotTly confirmed 1.1 -the appearance of
Mopsey, darting, with a dark face..of -dewy
radiance, at the wood-pile, and,shuffling back
with bustling, speed to the kitchen with a
handful of delicate splinters. "She's giving
him the last turn," said the captain. ,
'As the family entered the homestead on
their return, the widow and Miriam were
spreading the ancient four-legged and wide
leaved table, with a cover of snowy whiteness,
ornamented as with shields and weapons of
quaint device,. in the old plates of pewter,
aria horn handled kuives and forks, burnished
to such a polish as to make the little room
fairly glitter. Dishes streamed in, one after
another, in long and rapid procession; piles
of ionie - -inade bread, basins,. of apule sauce,
pickles, potatoes of vast proportion and mealy
beauty. When the ancient and lordly pitcher
of blue and white (whether freighted with
',new cider or old, or cold water need not be
told) crowned the board, the. first stage of,
preparation Was complete, and. a portentious
pause ensued. The whole Peabody connection,
arranged in stately,silence in The trout parlor,
looked on through the open door, in wonder
and expectation of what was to follow. The
children loitered about the doorways with
watering eyes and open mouths, like innocent
little dragons lying in wait to rush at.an op
portune moment and beirrioff their
I And now, all at once, there comes a deep-
,
h—a still more portentous pause 7 —all
re in the; direction of the'lciteben ;., the
len are hanging forward, with' their
4 and outstretched necks half way in at
door; Miriam and the' widow stand.
:bless and statue-like at either side of the
l'; when as.if rising out - of some- - myste
leave in the 'very .groubd, a dark figure
; erned in the distance, about the Centre
kitchen (into which Mopsey had made,
•Urean impressive effect; atgrand circuit,)
1
ateCt and bearing bCfpre it a huge plat-
I 11 their eyes tell them, every seem
l reports, what it is the platter, sup
-
she advanees.with slow and - sale=
she has crossed the silk sh , has enter
sitting 1-44,0rn1; and, with a full sense of
-ful responsibility, Mopsey delivers on
le, in a clear place left fur its' careful,
t, the Thanksgiving turkey. '
re is no need now to sound a gong; or
. an alarni-bell to Make known to that
roll that. dinner . is ready -,, the brown
speaks a'Stinirnons as with the voice
thousand living goblets, and SylVesfer
the whole Peabody family flock in. To
one his place is considerately assigned,
• ptain iu the centre directly opposite
key, the widow at one end, old Syl-,
at the head. The children too, a spe
'ception being made in their favor, to
re alloived seats with 3.1.1 c grown folks,
:am-disposing himself with great corn
his old grandsire's arms.
-as 'short work thelovial captain made
the prize turkey; iu rapid . succession
were forwarded, heaped, 'sent around ;
(with keen relish of the Thanksr.iiing
r, every head was busy. Straight on
ople who have au allotted task- before
the Peabody smoved through. the dim
er hut
eyes :
child'
bodies
the (I
breati
room
is die
of t 6:
to se
head
ter.
vividl l
ports ,
step;
ed th
bor a
the to
depos
house
turie
of a
rising
vesteir
cial
day,
little
with
plate
and
tlitm
as pl
diet I
ner.
though; while they were at-the
t of • its enjoyment, a sudden storm, at
changeful seam* arose without, and
led - its heavy drops against the door and
low panes; that only; by the contrast of
rity and fireside comfort, heightened the
within, while they were engaged with
many good' dishe's at feast, but , when,
ether pause - came, did not the pelting
wet and the chidit , wind talk with them,
h one in turn, of the absent, 'and some
!e will pot believe it—the lost I It was;
doubt, some thought or this kind that.
mpted obi Sylvester to speak :
My children," said the patrinrch,-`glanc-
beig ,
that,
da,,f
%in.!
g with a calm eye around the circle of
owing faces sit the table, " let us, on this
'Howe , ' day, cherish none but - kindly_
oughts towards' all our kindred, and if him
e have least esteemed offer the hand, let us
Ike it iu brotherly regard."
There was a pawn of silence once azaiu,
i hich was bioken by a knock at the door.
It was old Sylvester - hiutself who opened
le door and admitted the strangers; one of
_ern, the younger, Ware it douched 'hat,
ilieh did not allow his features to be dis
octly observed, further than his eyes we re
tight with •a strange lustio, and that_his face
-as d - eadly pale. lje wmpartly supported by
e elder man,whose person was obrd in a long
at reaching nearly to the ground.
They were , invited to the tattle., but refs -r.],
d took their station un either : side cf the
!earth. •
Will you not remove your hats'?" old
11-1.-.ter
fuming slowly at this question, the young
4an answered, "AVe may not prove Et corn
jrarfor such as von." -
" You should•not say so; my son; for this
le 'day in the year at least, ye may suspend
I evil thoughts and In at peace with all
r fellow creatures."
The young man,. turned towards the. corn
ny at the table, but not so fat that his
lore lace -could be seen.
"Have all who sit about you at that ta
.," be asked,
- glancing slowly areund," per
imed the duty to which “itt• refer, and
re•ed their bosoms of unkindness towards
'err fellow-men f" - .
"It may be," said old Sylvester, " that
to of its are disquieted, for one of the chit
m of this household is absent from among
for causes which may well disturb our
.iights" - . . .
' I have. heard the story," the young man
tined. ' There were two men, friends,
e id this neighborhood, Mr. Barbary, the
aeher, and your : grandson, Ethridge Pea
v. Something like a, year ago the pie:teller
ldenly disappeared from this, region,. and
• report arose and constantly spread that
had fallen bY, the hand of his friend, that
ndchild of yours. It began in a cloudy
isper, afar off, but swelled from day to
v, from hour to hour, till it overshadowed
s whole, region, and not the least of the
/
, kness it caused was on this spot, where
is anc?ent hornestcadslands, and where the
sung man , bad grown and Jived from the
!ur of his birth. He itasv coldness and
loidunce on the highway ; he was shrunk
.m on Sabbath mormngq, and by children ;
t this was little and could be borne—
:. world' was against him : but when he
w an aged face averted," he looked at old
lvester steadily, and, a Mother's comfit ,
ace sad and bostile"--:---"
"Sad—but •not hostile," the widow :hur
t! red.
"Sorrowful and troubled, at least," the
+ung man rejoined, " his life, for all of hap-
Ine-s, was at an' end. lie know that. big'
end had not fallen by his hand, that he
11 lived, but in a far distant place, which
ne but. by a long, and weary journey could
lath.t Nothing 'but: !bellying presence of
s friend could silence the voice of the ac..
user. lie rose. up and' departed without
unsel : of any, trusting only in God and his
vn strength : with a handful of fruit, and
e humble provision which his good mother
td fura!sh&l fur the harvest-flidd, be sot
,rth; day' and night he journeyed on the
jack he knew his friend had taken to that
r country, toiling', in the fields -to secure
gad • and lodging for the Alight, and some
!ant aids to carry him from place to place.
e pushed on fast and far through the west
n country ; often as he hoped on the very
ps of his friend, hut never overtaking him,
ith fortune at so low an ebb that there he
as well-nigh waste in strength, hunger
rieken, and wan ; so mean of person that
s dearest friend, eveen . his old playfellows,
Ito had wrestled with Lim in childish talk
L aity a time by summer streams, would*
ye passed him by as one-unktiwn. •
"The young man found his simple-hearted
end, the preacher, -in an . ollt-of-the-ways
'Wetness among the mountains; exhorting
0 living, comforting the siok i consoling the
Ilatiniit'lli. i _ Riiiittt-ltz!'
dying ; but when .he deavned * the peril an .
the sore distress of his . young friend, b r e 'tai-
ried not a moment, but took Ship; in: teMs
pest, and with many risks. of perishing fryr
away unvindicated, in the middre of, the
wild i.ea—"'
Thy widow moiler could restrain herielf
1 no longer, but rushing forward, sh'e removid,
1 the young man's hid from 'his brow, parted
his locks, and casting herself upon his neck,
cried out in the. affectinc , language of Scrip
ture, to which she had listened in 'the
morning : "My son was dead, Ail tis illy°
again—he was lost and is found 1" . ....
Miriam timidly grasped his offered,ban:o,
and was silent. the company bad risenTrom
the table anti gathered around.
The elder stranger cast back his coat, Ye
moved :his hat, andAtatiding forth, said, ".I
lam here, and- testify to the , trutb, in every
word, of all my young friend', has declared to
you: I received sudden tidings that my
I biothr, a missionary in the Tar Indian COnii
tries, was at the point of .death, and left at
once, telling .no one but Ethridge of my in
tention, and enjoining him to notify my pen-.
_
•
ple •"
Old Sylvester stood looking loftily : down
over all from the outer edge of the circle, and
while they were busiest in congratulations and
well wishes, he went forward. : ~• --
"Stand back l' cried the old man ? waiving
the company aside With outspread mins, aad
advancing' with extended hands towards his
grandson. "I have an atonement to render
~,
here, which I call you nil to witness." -.
Tears filled 'the obi •patriarch's eyes, and
I with a gentle hand he led his grandser(tii
! lend) to the table, to which the - whole eons._
.pain returned.
I take your hand, grandfather," Elbridge
interposed.
.. .
Ar this crisis of triumphant explanation,
Mopsey, who had, un6r one pretext and
another, evaded the bringing - in of thCtiie to
to i
the last moment, appeared at the kit ben
1 doer, bearing before her, with that air f ex
ordinary importance peCuliar tote ne—
gro countenance on eventful occasions, a
huge brown dish, with which she - advanced
to the head of the table—,-there, with . att em=
piratic bump, she deposited the great 'Thanks
: giving pumpkin-pie. -Looking proudly around,
she . si 111 ply said, " Dere !"
It was the blesiort and crown of Mops ey'a
It: - ., the setting down and full' delivery of
that, the greatest ,punkin-pie ever bakedja
that hearse from the. greats: punkin Byer
reared among the reabotlys in all her tong .
backward recollections of past Thanksgivings ;
and her manner of hitting . it down was, in its
most d e fiant form a clincher arid a 'Challenge
to all makers and bakers of pumpkin-pies,
to all cutters and 'carvers, to all dinners and
eaters, to all friends and enemies of pnropkin
pie-,, in the thirty or forty rnitedStates. The
Brundagcs, too, cdglrt come and look at if :
- i
they had a mind to. -, •
. .
As though it had caught something of the
genial spirit that glowed withiu the hernae;
the wind. was laid without, and the night
svfturred with the beauty of the rising ineop.
With a sadness on his brow which, neither
the old homestead ndr the pure heaveni'milt
Were,. Elbridgewent forth into the :malni
night, and sit :in' for a while by the toad be . -
neath an ancient locust tree, where he.had
often read -his book in the surnitier4imea, or
boyhood, he coinmuced with himself. Ile was -
happy—what mortal- man could. be happiei,l
--in all, his wishes come ,to pass: his Ivera •
(Itearns had taken life, and proved to he r4l
- and friends, and yet a sadness he could
not-drive away followed his step S..
~.:
As he, lifted up his cyes from, the earth, the
moon sailing forth from the clouds, and flood
ingthe region . withsilver lig,lit; disclosed •a 'figure
,so gentle . iind'delicate, and' in- its tek
tites so pure that it seemed as if.his
,troubled •
thoughts had summoned a spirit herure him
from the better world. • .
.. „
"No, no," he said,, declining the hand ex
tended in gentle salutation- and retiring a
'pace, "touch me not; 111 i iam, I am not War.;
thy of your pure companionship. If you knew
what passed and is passing in my beast, you
would loath me." .
S'Ae was sitent, and dropped her eyes be
fore him. ' -
If you love me no tenger, Ethridge," she
interposed quickly, ",fear•not to sayso, even
now. . I will bear the pangs as beSti . ctiti."'
" Von have suffered too much already,"
he rejoined, touched to the heart. "My long
elence insist have been as death to one so
kind and gentle." '
"1 havesuffered," was all she said. '" One
word froM you in your long, • absence would
have made me happy. Ilad you no thought
of me in that cruel absence, dear tlbridge l''' •
"Of you!" he echoed,,new -taking her
hand—" of yon' Was it not my religion and •
my only solace, that 6u thought - dine, v alid
though all the, world abandoned and distrusted
the wanderer,' there was one star that Yet
shone true, and trembled with a hopeful light
upon my path ?" • _
As slur lifted up her innocent face to hefty- '
en, did not those gentle tears, from those
fair eyes, drop in hearing of .111111 who ac
knowledges the faintest sound of ,true atfec-,
Lion, through all the boundless ,unlvetse, mu
sically as theaime of holy Sabbath-bells?".. .
An old familiar instument, swept as ie .
well knew by his mother's fingers, sounded at •
that moment front' the homestead,,,and hand
in hand, blending their steps, they returned,
to the Thanksgiving household within.
jrg" A good story i 4 told of it " country
gentleman," who, , for the firstaime, heard an
Episcopal clergyman preach. Ile hid read
much of the aristocracy and pride of the
Church. and when he returned home he was
asked if the, people we're ," stuck up." "Fshaw,
no," replied he, " why the minister actually
preached in his shirt sleeves."
r' A country youth
,came to town, to
see his intended wile.,.. and for' a , long time
could think of nothing to say. At least, a
great snow falling, he took occasion to say .
that his father's sheep would be• all- midone..-
"Well," said she, taking him by his hand,
"I'll keep one of them."
•
jar Near a depot were several Irish thwy
men. Thinking to quiz them, a gentleman
shouted to one. , 6 has the railroad got in r
ind has, sir," was the protnpt responie,
r.. 47 "Am 1 not a little pale inipirekln
lady, who yeas sbartunaeoriairent, of a Crusty
old bachelor: "Yoir look more like a
tub . 1 " was the blunt reply.
tir A clean glove, oft' n bides a ditl
hand.