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VOL. XXIL NO. 31.
TIONESTA, FA., WEDNESDAY, NOV. L7, 1880. S1.50 PER ANNUM.
THANKSGIVING.
For the hay and tli corn and tlio wheat tlint
I is reaped,
i For the labor well done, and tho barns that
i nro heaped,
For the sun and tho dew and tho sweet
honeycomb,
For the rose and the song and tho harvest
brought homo
1 ThnbB.rlfl..,rl 41.ai.1rc0U.tnnt
......r.. . ... . ....... .Ugi
For the trade and the skill and the wealth in
our land,
. FortIierUntllnirHllllHlrnnfrt.il r.t tho.
inginiui's hand.
For the good that our artists and poets have
taught,
For the friendship that hopo and afToction
have brought
I Thanksgiving! thanksgiving I
For the homes that witli purest affection aro
blest,
For the season ot plenty and well-deserved
rest,
For our country extending from sea unto
i sea,
Tho land that is known as the "Land of the
Free"
Thanksgiving! thanksgiving!
Harper't Weekly.
HOW WE GOT OUR TURKEY.
A T1IASKSCIVINO STOItV.
HERE was no doubt
that tho country was
prosperous. No rea-
'sonable man could
deny it. Tho hnr-
i vests had been plente
ous, tho earth had
yielded up her fruits
in abundance, and
there were abundant
reasons for thanks
giving. I read the
President's Thanksgiving mcssugo and
agreed with it heartily, us far as olliers
were concerned; but someliow I couldn't
- co how it applied to inc. Perhaps
you will say I w;u selfish, nnd I am
willing to confess I am. Tho fact is
thatwhen tho cake is going around I
want to get a piece. If I don't pet it I
feel disappointed. "Wliile I am glad in
tho abstract that others come in for a
share of the cake, in tho coucrcto I am
mad becuuscs it passes me.
But, perhaps, after all, 1 am too sweep
ing in my conclusions. I don't know
hut that there is one person in the world
who is c.niable uf self-sacrifice of a high
order, ami that is my wife Nellie. Bless
her little heart, I am almost willing to
overlook all the weakness of humanity
for her sake. Why, I've known her to
go without bread and butter when she
was faint with hunger so that tho chil
dren couhl have an extra slice. That
- was threo years ago at Thanksgiving
time. The memory of her courage and
self denial makes my eyes wet.
You see, Nellio was always practical
and unselfish, while I was impracticable
and poetic. Why, if I had her execu
tive ability I'd liavo been a millionaire
, by this time, a cool millionaire, with u
yacht and a country house ou the Hud
son. Hut sho was handicapped by her
sex and tho children and couldn't exer
cise her natural gifts.
I must go on, however, and tell my
story. The month preceding Thanks
giving Day of 188!), was the gloomiest
.time 1 ever witnessed. We had just. nr.
rived in the city from Shiiudaken, N. Y.,
in the C'atskills. I was a farmer's boy
and Nellie was a fanner's daughter. Be
fore we were married a famous singer
uncut the summer in our village, tine
night at a strawberry festival he heard
me sing, and was kind enough to say
. that I had an excellent tenor voice, and
with proper culture I could command a
iiOod salary as a choir singer in New York.
O." courso such encouragement tired mo
with hojie. The farm became distaste
ul to me, and I determined to cultivate
my voice instead of cultivating corn.
We had an old-fashioned mclodeon in
the house, and with tho help of a few
lessons tho famous singer gave mo and j
what I could learn from hints iu tho
opening pages of tho choir books, I made
life a burden for tho rest of the family
with my do, re, ineiug every evening. 1
made fair progress, too, under the cir
cumstances and Nellie fell in love with
me on account of my voice. I remember
distinctly that her favorite was a little
selection from one of Mendelssohn's
songs without words set to the following
lines:
Still, still wifrh thee when purple morning
tireaket li.
When the bird wttketli and the shadows
flee;
Fairer than nioruing, lovelier than the day
light Coinus the sweet consciousness, I am with
thee.
Well, we were married, and for a
time my music was given up. Hut the
life of a farmer fretted me, and I took
up my musie again, and ufter two years'
hard work at it we moved to the city. I
thought in my ignorance of metropolitan
life that I should have uo difficulty in
procuring a situation, but I soou found
out my mistake. Iu the first place 1
found that 1 was incompetent. I was de
ficient in style. My voice, while strong
und resonant, had not been properly
trained. Then, too, there was uo vacan
cies. Kven if 1 had beeu competent
there were fifty applicants for every posi
tion. 'Jcfoio I had beeu iu the city for
two j'eks I heartily wished myself
back,' Shamlaken ugain.
Iu; meantirre the little money 1 had
saved and brought with me melteil away
like snow on the roof of a barn. My time
was mainly taken up in running around
to tho musical agencies looking for a
situution. I had a lit tic job on Sundays
singing nt a mission on Avcnuo A, where
I earned $2, uud for three weeks that was
all I earned. Wo lived in Kast Mew
York and my car fare over to the city
and back every day cost mo sixteen
cents.
You will readily see that we had to
live frugally. In fact, for two weeks wo
lived upon oatmeal and molasses, nnd to
ward the last there was no molasses, and
Thanksgiving coming over the hills.
Every night when I got out at Manhattan
avenue my threo little girls were standing
at the foot of the stairway waiting for
me. I could see them from tho top of
the stairs, all in a row, their litllo cloaks
flapping in the chill November wind,
their lips blue and teeth rattling like
castanets.
Wait a minute. It makes mc feel faint
to think of it, even after tho lapse of
three years. Well, it's all over now, I
don't know why it alTeets mc so strongly.
There was something humorous, too, iu
the way the little tots jumped nround to
keep warm. As soon as they saw the
train swing around tho turn they ranged
themselves in n row and looked upward
so wistfiifty, oh, so wistfully, to sec their
pnpa. For you must know that although
not ono word of our desperato situation
had been breathed iu their hearing, yet
their keen intuitions had told them some
thing was wrong, and they knew as well
as their mother that I was looking for
work. How eagerly they looked in my
face each evening, so that if there was a
ray of hopo in it the eldest could starton
a run to tell her mother the good news!
Of courso I cheered them with fairy
tales of what a wonderful big turkey wo
would have on Thanksgiving. A gob
bler of tremendous size, who had strutted
when alive like a prince iu the story
books. Then followed a description of
the cranberry sauce nnd the huge wedges
of luince pie. All this took place while
I was carrying two of the children in my
arms and the other was hanging on to my
coat at my side. I hopo I shall be for
given for those lies. For they were lies
of the blackest sort. I knew there
wasn't one chance in a thousand that we
would have a turkey on Thanksgiving
Day. But I think under the circum
stances that an angel of light would have
departed from the truth to see those lit
tle faces light up with anticipation, to
see the checks flush and the white teeth
bare themselves as though cutting the
tender meat from a turkey leg.
But tho hardest sight for me to bear
was the look Nellie gave mo. .lust ono
quick glance into my face nnd she knew
all the sorrowful tale. It was not nec
essary to tell her how I hail trumped the
streets of the big city all day, how faint
I had become from hunger; how I was
raging at heart like a caged lion; how in
my awful rage 1 cursed tho rich and
hated humanity. Not for myself, but
for the hungry babies and their mother.
Never a word of complaint from Nellie.
Only encouragement nud hope.
Then came the oatmeal alone. For
the molasses was all gone. I don't cat
oatmeal now. The taste of it is insuffer
able to me. My palate rises iu rebellion
against it. I have heard of the man who
ate thirty nuail iu thirty days. I wonder
whether he ever tried oatmeal for thirty
davs.
Ou the morning before Thanksgiving
I was fairly eray with grief and anticipa
tion. Nellie and I had a consultation
the night before, and she suggested that
I should write a piece of poetry about
the Thanksgiving turkey.
The idea pleased inc. It was a relief
certainly from the brooding over the
morrow. I got a book of poems from
my little store, which had so far escaped
the pawn-shop and hunted up a metre
after which 1 copied, for of course I knew
nothing about metre or poetical feet.
Meanwhile Nellie sat there mending
the clothing of her babies and the tears
fell thick and fast upon the garments.
I couldn't stand it so I jumped up and
went out into the street to walk oft the
effect those childish voices had upon me.
When I came back, thank Heaven, they
wero asleep, folded in each others arms.
'1'hen 1 got to work on my poem. It
took me one hour and a half to write the
lirst verse. I became discouraged before
1 had written two lines and would have
given up but for Nellie's encouragement.
"Now, what's the use, Nell; just listeu
to this stuff," said I. reading the stanza
The turkey roosteth high to-night
lie's hid' in the hemlock tree;
In fancy 1 w his plumuKO bright,
Kut lie gobblus not for me.
"Why, I think it's real nice. I didn't
know you could write so well us that.
It's splendid; write unother stanza."
"But don't you see, Nell, that it isn't
true. The turkey don't gobble at night."
"OU, well, that don't make auy differ
ence. 1 lie poets always nave license, you
know. Besides, how many persons will
know that he doesn't gobble at night!
Not one iu a hundred."
"I'm afraid it's no good and that it
won't go with the editor. An) how, I'll
try a few lines inoro."
The little clock ticked mouoVnously
ou the mantel. The riie bui.ied low,
I and Nellie put a shawl over her should
ers, for the room was growing cold. But
the chill air did not affect inc. I was
giving birth to a poem. Tho second
stanza enmc easier. What bothered me
most was the rhyme. I think, to the
best of my recollection, that the second
Instalment consumed a half hour of ln-
tenso thought. I was better satisfied
than with the first stun.n, because I knew
it whs truer. Here It is, just as I read it
to Nellie:
His comb is s red ns ruddy wine,
His breast is a shining sheen:
But his carcass is safe from me and mine
We can't pick his wishlKine clean.
Tim muso was rather skittish at the
third stanza. I coaxed her with n pipe
of tobacco, the fumes of which made Nel
lie cough, and I persuaded her to go to
bed. Tho clock struck 11. The wind
rattled the window frame and I began to
think that poets earned their money. I
I almost fell asleep over this stanza.
While laboriously constructing it there
ranio a picture to mo of the old farm
house in the Cutskills, the table groaning
with its weight of good things, ft oc
curred to mo just hero that 1 was doing
the groaning now. When finished, after
many interlineations nnd corrections, it
read ns follows:
There was a time long, long ago,
When deprived of his feuthery vest.
I sei.ed his leg in my Rtrong right hand,
And dissected his meaty breast.
By this time I had got into the spirit
of my undertaking. Tho lines ran off
the end of my pen as smoothly ns water
runs off a duck's back. With a confi
dent smile I linishnd tho last verse.
The next moruiug I had to fill up the
holo in a ten-cent piece with soap and
ashes in order to deceive the toll-taker at
the elevated railroad station. All tho
way down town I read and reread the
alleged poem, trying to perfect it. When
I arrived in New York I hesitated before
the big newspaper offices, afraid to go
in. At last I managed to pluck up
courage enough to go up stairs, where,
contrary to my expectations, I wns kindly
received nnd was told that my poem
would bo read, and if it possessed suffi
cient merit it would be printed. 'Twus
encouraging, to be sure, but what was I
goiug to do in the meantime for the
turkey?
Tho day was spent in the usual way,
running around' looking for a job and
finding none. . 1 managed, however, to
earn fifty cents by carrying some coal.
It hurt my pride to do it, but the faces
of tho children rose before me, and I
would almost have committed murder
just then.
With R heavy heart I started to walk
over tho bridge just after sunset. The
wind blew cold from the northeast, and I
buttoned my coat close to my chin. It
was a starlit night. Tho great towers
loomed up above me like entrances to
some gigantic temple. Tho river rushed
and swirled below, and reflected in silver
gleams tho light from tho electric lamps.
1 could see the little waves capped with
foam. It was a fascinating sight, and I
felt strangely drawn toward the river.
For a timo I forgot the babies and Nellie.
Behind mo was the great, roaring city,
with its thousands of men and
women struggling for existence. I
had been trampled under foot in tho
crush. Why should I return and renew
the battle? As I brooded over tho river,
chilled to the marrow by tho searching
wind, tho water seemed to beckon mc.
Its shiftiug currents whispered "Come;"
ita shadowy, gleaming rifts, its miniature
malestroins seemed to my excited fancy
to say: "Here's rest for you. We'll
bear you away to dreamland, where hun
ger and pain and sorrow are drowned in
tho nepentho of eternal rest."
In this Btato of partial unconsciousness
I began to climb up the railing to reach
the roadway below, when a policeman
touched me on the shoulder nnd told me
to "move on." I did movo on, but in a
dazed, uncertain way,, until I reached
the Brooklyn cutrauce. Here the crowd
from the cars was pouring out iu the
street like a torrent, and in tho crush I
was hustled about und at last stumbled
into the arms of a stout man muffled in
an old army overcoat. He held me away
from him by my arms. Then ho shook
me nnd said :
"What's the mutter with you, Tom?
Ye ain't drunk, be ye?"
There was something familiar iu the
voice, and looking up I saw the homely
face of Sam Jones, of Shaudaken, before
inc. Then came another shake, aud this
time I came to myself again.
"By George, Sam, I'm glad to sec
you," I stammered.
"Well, let's go an' get somethiu' to
warm you up. Vou re near froze, man.
Thawed aud melted by a steaming cup
of coffee, I told Sam all the sorrowful
story. How the children would bo wait
ing nt tho station for mo expecting the
turkey I had foolishly promised them and
my inability to procure it. I was inter-
ruptcd at intervals by exclamations from
Sain such us :
"Well, I'll be blessed! You kin bet
yer boots them kids is goin' to hav' their
turkey! B'gosh! I alters did say that
the city's no place fur a fanner!"
I'mler the cheerful influence of Sam's
sympathy I soon regained my lost cour
age. Ho insisted that we should go to
tiie nearest grocery, where he picked out
the biggest turkey he could find. Then
there wero two quarts of cranberries,
three big mince pies, a package of randy
for the children, a bunch of crisp celery.
and other things appropriate to Thanks
giving Day.
When Sam left me at. the elevated
station he pressed a 5 bill into my hand,
despite my protests, with the remark:
"Now, you take it, old man. I g it
good prices fur my truck this season.
'Sides that I am only lending it to ye.
Yc'vc got to pay mc every cent back !"
With n parting hand shake he disap-(
peared. As the train rattled along over)
the shining rails I could sec the lights ol
tho big bridge fading away bchiud me.
The river rushed below just us it hail
done one brief hour before, but its turbid
waters had no fascination for mc now. i
I wish every man and woman who!
reads this story could have seen the face!
of those three children as they stood ai)
the foot of the elevated station. My
arms were filled with bundles, and when
those three pairs of eyes gazed upon the
glorious sight what an infantile shout
went up! And how they danced with
glee! The eldest insisted that she could
carry the turkey, but she couldn't, it
was too heavy. But each one had t
carry a bundle. And so, like a conquer
ing army returning with the spoils, we
marched nround to the house. ,
And Nellie! Well, bless mo, if shii
didn't sit right down on a chair and cry
like a baby. I can't remember distinctly,
because, you sec, it's three years ago now J
but I have an indistinct recollection that
a few salt drops ran down my cheeks.
As for Sam Jones, I think ho would have,
felt fully repaid for his kindness if he)
could have heard Buelah say her little
prayer that night. That simple petition
is carven so distinctly on the walls of my
memory that I can repeat it word for
word : j
"Dod bless T'au'sgivin', en papa, eij
mamma, en Sura Jones. Dood uight!
Tho Turk's Thanksgiving Dinner.
The Turk aud Tommy.
The Hoy's Opinion.
Oh. Valentine Pay is well enough,
And Fourth of July is jolly,
And f'hristinas time is beautiful,
With iu gifU aud its wreaths of holly.
New Year's calling is lather nice.
And Hallowe'en sports are funny,
And a May-Hay party isn't bad.
When the weather is warm and sunny.
Oh. all of them are well enough;
ttut the duy that is best worth living,
Is when we all go to grandmamma's,
To a splendid, big Thanksgiving!
iwnmu C. Doted
Tho Little Fiend.
"You must feel some satisfaction in
eating the turkey that chased you around
tho yard a week ago,
"He was a very saucy
said the minister.
bird when alive
wasn't he?"
"Yes," replied littlu Johnnie, "und
ma said wheu you got through there
would be nothing left but the cranberry
sauce."
Thanksgiving Kevcry.
I never had a sweet gazelle
To glud me with its soft, black eye,
But I would love it passing well
liaked iu a rich and crusty pio.
If 1 could have a bird to love
And nestle sweetly in my breast,
All oilier nestling bints uliove,
The turkey, slutted, would lie that bird.
Olliiira f ree Trailer.
Hardly a Buigaln.
"What a kind, thoughtful hubby you
are," said the young wife, throwing her
arms arouud his neck wheu ho brought
home a turkey, ' and what a dear little
bird it is."
"1 should say it was dear," he
growled. "1 won it ut a raffle. "
Too Honest to Succeed.
"What kind of bread do you like best,"
asked a-kind hearted old lady, who wus
getting something for the tramp's Thanks
giving. "The bread of idleness, mum.
Tommy and the Turk.
THANKSGIVING INTHEOLDHOME
Like the patient moss to the rifted hill,
Tho wee brown house is clinging.
A last year's nest that is lone a nd still,
Though It erst was fllle I with singiug.
Then fleet we? the children's pattering feet,
And their trilling childish laughter,
And merry voices, were sweet, oh! sweet,
Ringing from floor to rnfter.
The beautiful darlings one by one,
From the nest's safe shelter flying,
Went forth iu sheen of the morning sun,
Their fluttering pinions trying,
But oft as the reaping time is o'er,
And t'-te hoar frost crisps the stubble,
They haste to the little home once more
From the great world's toil and trouble.
And the mot'ier herself is at the pane.
With a hand the dim eye shading,
And the flush of girlhood tints ngnln
The cheek that is thin and fading.
For her lioys and girls are coining home,
The mother's kiss their guerdon,
As they came ere yet they had learned to
roam,
Or bowed to the task and burden.
Over the door's worn sill they troop,
The skies of youth abovo them.
The blessing of God on the happy group,
Who have mother left to love them.
They well may smile in face of care,
To whom such grace is given ;
A mother's faith, nnd a mother's prayer,
Holding them close to heaven.
For her, as she clasps hor bearded sou,
With a heart that's brimming over,
She's tenderly blending two iu ono,
Her boy, and her boyish lover.
And half of her soul is reft away
So twine the dead and tho living
In tho little home w herein to-day,
Her children keep Thanksgiving.
There are tiny hands that pull her gown,
And small heads bright and goldeu;
Thochildish laugh and the childish frowa,
And the dimpled fingers folden.
That bring again to the mother breast
The spell of the sunny weather,
When she hushed her brood In the crowded
nest.
And all were glad together.
A truce to the jarring notes of life,
The cries of pain and passion.
Over this lull in the eager strife.
Love hovers, Eden fashion.
In the wee brown house wero lessons taught
Of strong and sturdy living,
And ever whore honest hands have wrought.
God hears the true Thanksgiving'.
Margaret E. Songster,
TESSIE'S THANKSGIVING.
11 V MRS. M. F. HANDY.
CLOCK on the
mantel struck one
sharply and then
went off in an
nugry whirr, us
though it under
stood fully that
Draper it Co. allowed
no loitering ou the part
of their employes. "Ten
minutes late, five cents
fine" it ticked, noisily,
over una over uguin.
Tessie opened her sleepy
eyes and having, as she
used to say, "no five
centses to lose," sprang
"out of bed nnd began
dressing hurriedly in the dim light. Her
hair Draper's young ladies were models
iu the mutter of hair dressing had beeu
carefully arranged the night before and
done up in a kerchief to keep it smooth.
Now, there were only a few crimps to undo,
a few hairpins to put iu place, nnd her
golden tresses shone in all their glory, a
mass of soft coils and fluffy curls.
Her breakfast "coldly furnished forth"
from the dinner of the evening before,
was ready and waiting, save for the cup
of tea which was quickly made, and she
ate with the appetite resulting from
youth and health and the sercno con
sciousness of a few iniuutcsto spare.
"Tessie," called her mother from up
stairs, "what is the weather this morn
ing?" She looked out of the window
for the first time und drew herself to
gether with a little shiver. The world
was gray and cold; alight snow lay on
the roof and pavements uud the leudei
sky gave promise or more ere many Hours.
"The cold wave has come, mamma
deur," she answered cheerfully. "Are
the buttons aud braid ou my coat?"
"No, daughter, I'm sorry, but the silk
gave out and I couldn't get it done. You
must bring me a spool this evening, and
this morning you will have to wear my
sealskin."
Tes.sie made a face to herself, quietly.
Six dollars a w eek nud Shetland seal were
clrurly incongruous. If Mr. Draper saw
her wearing it the conclusions he might
draw might result in the loss of her situa
tion, but it would not ilo to tell the mother
so. "Poor mamma, she hates my being
u shop girl badly enough now, and I eau't
risk pneumonia either,'' Tessie thought,
us she put ou the coat, which fitted her
beautifully, to her mother's gnat satis
faction. It, like many other luxuries,
was an article of better days. They had
not always been poor, and when her
father died, he fancied that ho left his
wife aud daughter tar above the reach of
want. But most of their funds, which
he had invested with the view to save
them trouble, were ill the Pcrolizine Itail
road, which for two years past had paid
no dividends. The pretty little house in
w hich they lived was their own, but their
income was too small to support them in
idleness, uud Tessie was glad to secure a
situation iu Draper's through the influence
of an old friend of her father's. Her,
mother had protested feebly and then ;
yielded to the girl's sturdy common sense ; ;
still it was a sore point with h( r that her I
pretty daughter must work for her daily
bread.
"Never luuid, mamma, I shall be as
warm us a toast," Tessie said, resolutely
hiding her reluctance to wear the coat,
"aud tomorrow is Thanksgiving, eo we
shall have time toget my jacket done be
fore church. Aren't you glad I'm going
to have a holiday:'' She trotted off
briskly for the morning's run downtown,
which kept the roses glowing in her
cheeks iu spite of her contiueuieut iu the
store.
The tiiiitkccpcr nt the side door
greeted her with n smile. "You are
live minutes early, Miss Wilbur," he
said, graciously.
She passed into the coat room, which
was filling fast, and put her small lunch
in her compartment, took off her hat
and then hesitated, under a running
(ire of "What a lovely coat, Miss Wil
bur V
"Is that plush?"
"No, indeed sealskin; my, ain't we
line." etc.
Tessic's tones trembled slightly as she
tried to answer quietly.
It s borrowed plumage but she did
not finish the sentence.
Don't leave it down here," whis
pered a kind-hearted girl. "It won't
lie sufe, and you couldn't make a fuss if
you lost it."
She hesitated no longer, but taking the
coat and her courage into her hand, went
over to the suit department, to the head
of which she owed her situation.
Well, Miss Tessie," he said, as lie
looked up from his desk. "Good
moruiug. What can I do for you to
day?" "A great favor, please; will you keep
this wrap for me? It wus papa's last
present to mamma, nnd she made me
weur it because mine is being altered and
wasn't quite done. I don't like to leave
it iu the common clonk room.
"Certainly, certainly. Is that all!"
and he hung the coat in his private
wardrobe. "Remember mo to Mrs.
Wilbur," nnd with a light -heart Tessie
went to her post ut the ribbon
counter.
It was a busy day in spite of the lower
ing skies. Everybody seemed to be buy
ing new ribbons for Thanksgiving, and
Tessie matched shades and rolled nnd un
rolled ball after ball trying as much as in
her lay to be all things to nil women iu
order to earn her salary.
She was glad when pleasant little Miss
Baker, of the mail order, enme to her
with a long munorandum to fill, nnd
chatted brightly over the task, promising
before she was through to bring her a
lot of samples of reduced black dress
goods for her mother.
Then came her lunch hour, and on her
way back to the counter a visit to the
cashier's desk. Thursday was pay day, and
being Thanksgiving, the day before was
substituted. As she approached the desk
she wus struck by tho expressions of face
in those who were leaving some angry,
some dejected, some scowling, others al
most in tears aud she was not altogether
surprised when the umotuit was handed
to her sixty cents short.
"All right," said the cashier, frown
ing, in answer to lier look of inquiry.
"All salaries reduced ten per cent, from
the drapers down. Sign, please. Next "
Aud she was tirshed away hv those press
ing behind. The silver made her purse
sarcastically full, she thought, bitterly,
and it was fuller yet, when, later iu the
day, she placed the sample from Miss
Baker- in the same receptacle for safe
keeping.
When at last the long day was ended
the ribbons replaced in their boxes, and
sho stood on the street corner, waiting
for her cur with the rich sealskin coat
almost covering her neat black dress, and
a pretty black hat crowning her golden
tresses, she felt herself a fraud, und the
fat purse in her hand was but of a piece
with the rest of her toute cnsenibh
Indeed, there was nothing about her to
suggest the working girl; she looked
much more like a rich young woman be
lated in shopping. It was too late to
walk, and a few flakes of snow were fall
ing, which mudo the ride imperative for
tin sealskin. Tessie promised herself
never to wear it again, as she brairded
the crowded car, and felt that she must
stand a while longer.
But beauty, becolningly dressed, lias
charms to melt the heart of man, ami a
distinguished looking gentleman, young
enough to be impressed by such charms,
gallantly offered Her his seat. She sank
into jt with graceful thanks, and having
paid her fare, slipped her purse in the
fur coat pocket. People began to get
out, and presently she was able to make
room for the polite gentleman who had
vacated his seat iu tier favor. Having
done so. she looked straight out of the
window, us a well-bred girl should do.
Two geutleineu ou the other side of her,
men of substance, evidently, were talk
ing. A sentence caught her interest : "I
sec Draper has scut $1U,0UU to the suffer
er? by tho Western floods."
"Yes; what a public-spirited man
he is."
Tessic's heart burned with an insane
desire to supplement the statement with
that of the reduction of his employes'
salaries.
We gave that money, not he," she
thought. I heard it said once that the
salary list is over i'i I ,HUI a week. At
that rate it wouldn't take long, at ten
per cent, to make the ten thousand I"
So absorbed was shu iu her indignant
reverie that she failed to notice when her
handsome neighbor got out, uud the con
ductor called her street twite lie fore she
heard him.
Instinctively, as she reached the side
walk, she put her Laud iu her pocket to
feel for lief pursr.
It wa gonr! ' "
It wns too late to stop the car, and,
sick at heart, she went home. There
had been fifty cents in the purse besides
the week's salary. Not n large amount,
it is true, but it represented a hard week's
work, and it was much to her. "We
must have a chicken instead of a turkey
for Thanksgiving," she thought. "The.
wort of it is it will worry mamma so."
Mrs. Wilbur was watching for her nt tho
window, and opened the door almost be
fore shu reached the step.
"How cold it is ! Come in and get
dinner and then we'll bundle up nnd go
marketing for to-morrow. AYhy, what is
the matter, child!"
Tessie told her story of the lost purse.
"Maybe you dropped it. You know
tlm-conductor. don't you?" suggested her
mother. Wc will go to the car stables
in the morning. Why, what is this;''
and Mrs. Wilbur, who was searching the
pocket of the sealskin coat nervously,
held up a gorgeous diamond ring, which
Tessie recognu.ed as the one which she
had seen sparkling on the hand of her
polite friend of the street, car.
"There was a little slit in tlie Uningot
the pocket, and it had slipped down,
explained her mother, "but, how did it,
get there? I never had such a ring, aud
nobody else has worn the coat."
He picked my pocket! gasped lessie,
"and the riug caught in tho slit and
slipped off; and he seemed so nice and
gentlemanly; I'll never trust appearances
again !"
"He? Who?" asked Mrs. Wilbur iu
bewilderment, Tessie explained.
"Yes, that must have been the way of
it. Well, well, take it to Mr. Cold
spring and ask him what to do about,
lie knew your futher, and will be ready
to help us for his sake."
"A viry fine diamond," said the
jeweler, when the plan was put into
execution. "Worth at least $!Hll. Of
course, you can advertise it, but I don't
think I would. Tho thief is caught iu
his own trap, and won't be likely to
claim the riug, since to do so would be
to court arrest as a pickpocket. I think
you may rest content with liuving bought
a tine diamond very cheaply, very cheaply
indeed."
Aud so the matter rested.
His Turkey.
The best practical joke I ever knew
said Uncle Will, in the story-telling
hour after dinner was one I played,
years ugo, when I lived nt Hiimpstcad.
1 was working nt the carpenter's trade,
it was before I got the start I have
now and a lot of us was just finishing
old Simpkin's barn. Sirnpkius was
the richest and stingiest man in town.
One afternoon, several days before
Thanksgiving, we got talking about him,
ami Jerry Bowles said: "He's an old
screw, but I bet he'll have tho deceuey
to give us all Thanksgiving turkeys."
We laughed at that, and told Jerry he
might take it out in betting, for though
Siinpkiiis hud given us a long job, he
wasn't in the least bound to consider us
permanent workmen.
But Jerry wus obstinute ami greedy,
aud he talked and blustered till wo were
tired of the whole subject, and I mudo
up my mind that he deserved a lesson. I
didn't say anything ut the time, but that
uight I gave u hint to Tom Knowles, a
crony of mine, aud he quite agreed with
nie.
We laid nil our plans, nnd the evening
beforo Thanksgiving Knowles came to
my house, bringing a pair of large yel
low turkey legs. I had arranged a nob
by bundle of sticks and shavings, anil we
tied the legs firmly to ono end of it; then
the whole was wrapped in stout browu
paper, with those tell-tale feet sticking
out, and any one would have declared the
bundle contained a big turkey.
My w ife wanted me to go to the market
for some purchases which had not been
delivered, nnd about which she was get
ting anxious, so that gave me a good ex
cuse for driving down town. I harnessed
Kit into the light wngou, put the mock
turkey under the seat, ami Tom and I
started in high glee.
When we readied Jerry's house, ho was
standing in the door, und we drove on
to ilo our errands. By the time the lnar-ket-inan
hail packed apples, oranges, a
big squash and a turkey into the wagon
half an hour hud passed, and we thought
it safe to venture on our joking way. So
we drove to tho co'iur next Jerry's
house, and Tom, after pulling his hat
down and his coat collar tip to disguise
himself, went to deliver tho turkey.
When he came back, he was overcome
with laughter at remembering how
pleased Jerry had seemed, he hadn't
recogni7cd Tom ut all, but just took the
turkey, ie Tom said, uud rail ill to tell
his w ife.
I don't believe I have laughed so much
since I wus a child as I did iu thinking
how Jerry's face would change when h
opened that bundle.
1 dropped Tom ut his house, went
home, and carried my parcels into the
kitchen. Thin, when 1 had unharnessed,
in V wife and I opened them, and my
friend, Tom li.ul made a mistake, lie
had given Jerry the real turkey, uud I
had brought the dummy hone'. It served
me right, 1 suppose, hut those turkey
legs tlid not make a very good dinner.