Thanksgiving Day.
The next morning was mild and clear. A bright sun shone gloriously forth,
and aided by light airs from the south, softened the snow and made every
thing, but the walking, as pleasant as nature ever is on a December day.
It was thanksgiving day, too--thanksgiving was appointed in December that
year--and all the inmates of Glen Morris arose in high spirits, expecting
to spend that festal day in calm and quiet enjoyment.
At the breakfast-table, Uncle Morris excited some surprise, by putting on
a very grave countenance, and saying--
"Some persons must have entered my room, last night!"
"Entered your room!" exclaimed Mrs. Carlton, turning a little pale, and
forgetting what she was about, so far as to overflow the cup she was
filling with coffee.
"Did they steal any thing, Uncle?" asked Hugh, in a voice made husky by
the alarm he felt at the idea of burglars having been in the house.
"Mind, my dear, you are flooding the tea-tray with coffee," said Mr.
Carlton, pointing to the overflow of coffee in front of his lady.
"Did you see them?" inquired Jessie, also pale with alarm.
These questions were put so rapidly one after the other, that Uncle Morris
had no chance to explain himself for a few moments. Silence, however,
followed Jessie's question. Then the old gentleman relaxed his muscles,
smiled, and said--
"I neither saw nor heard the intruders; yet, I found unquestionable marks
of their having been in my room. They even made a hole in one of the
walls! Yet, strange as it may appear, they not only took nothing away,
but, on the contrary, they left one of the sweetest little chamber
ornaments behind them I ever saw. Such burglars are welcome to enter my
room every night!"
"O Uncle Morris! I know what you mean," said Jessie, laughing, and shaking
her forefinger at him.
Mr. Morris's last words and his changed manner, had, of course, relieved
all parties of their alarm, though none but Guy and his sister knew
precisely what he meant.
"I shouldn't wonder if you did. Even the bird knows where it finds food,
much more should intruders know where they intruded," replied Uncle
Morris.
Jessie then looked at her mother, and said--
"Ma, Uncle means me and Guy, by his intruders. We went into his room last
night to hang his watch-pocket over his bedstead."
"But what about the hole in the wall, Jessie? Did you and Guy dig that?"
asked Hugh.
"Ha, ha, ha! That's only Uncle Morris's fun. Guy bored a little hole with
his gimblet, to screw in the hook which was meant to hang the pocket on;
that's all," replied Jessie.
"No, that wasn't all, either," said Mr. Morris, "for my little puss left
the cutest little velvet watch-pocket I ever saw, hanging on the hook.
There was some witchery in it, too, for it kept me awake over an hour. It
seemed to hop down on to my pillow, and buzz in my ear, saying, 'I am a
love-gift. The little girl who made me, made your quilt, made your
slippers, and is going to make you a cushion. A pesky little creature
tried hard to hinder her from doing it, but her love for you was so
strong, she drove him away. I don't think there is any other old gentleman
in Duncanville, loved by either niece or daughter, half so well as you are
loved by the little miss whose nimble fingers made me!' Talking thus, the
pocket kept me from going to sleep, until I began to fancy that my Jessie
must have put a fairy into it."
"O Uncle Morris!" cried Jessie, with a glowing face and a heart dancing to
joy-beats, as it perceived the affection for her, which Uncle Morris only
partly concealed under his quaint and fanciful way of speaking. She craved
no higher reward, than these expressions of his love for her.
After breakfast and family prayers were over, Mr. Morris turned to his
niece, and said:
"Jessie!"
"Yes, Uncle."
"I am going to take a little walk, before I go to hear our minister's
Thanksgiving sermon. Will you go?"
"Oh yes, yes. Uncle, I should like it ever so much."
During this conversation, Mrs. Carlton had been looking out at the window.
The snow was dripping from the eaves, and from the trees. It looked soft
and soggy in the path, and she feared the walking would be too sloppy for
her daughter. So she said:
"It is hardly fit for Jessie to go out walking, Brother. The slosh will be
over her sandals, and she will get wet feet."
"Do you think so, Ma? Well, I'm sorry. But if I only had a pair of
rubber-boots, like Carrie Sherwood's, I could go in spite of the slosh.
Never mind,"--here Jessie's sigh showed how disappointed she felt,--"never
mind, uncle will have to take his walk alone."
Some misses would have fretted over such a disappointment as this. But
Jessie seldom fretted. She had too much good sense, and too much good
nature to fret. Perhaps this was one reason why she was loved so well.
When Mrs. Carlton had expressed her view of the bad walking, Uncle Morris
left the room, so that he did not hear all that Jessie said in reply. He
now returned, bearing in his hands a good-sized parcel, neatly tied and
addressed in his own handwriting, to "Miss Jessie Carlton." Giving it to
his niece, he said:
"Open Sesame! Perhaps you may find a talisman within this parcel, which
will incline your mamma to change her opinion about the fitness of your
walking out with me this morning."
Jessie untied the string, and on opening her parcel, looked up with eyes
full of pleasure, and exclaimed:
"A pair of rubber-boots!"
Then dropping the parcel, she ran to her uncle, and gave him, I don't know
how many warm kisses. After this, she took up the boots, and looking at
them admiringly, said:
"Oh, how nice! Now I can go out in sloppy weather, can't I, Ma! What a
dear, good uncle you are! What made you think of buying me these boots?"
"What made my little puss think of making me a watch-pocket, eh?" replied
Mr. Morris: "but come, try on your boots, and let us be going!"
Mrs. Carlton having no fears about the slosh now that Jessie's feet were
"_booted_," instead of being "_sandalled_," gave her consent, and a few
minutes later, Jessie was trotting along at the side of her uncle, in the
road which led toward the village. A hired man followed them at a little
distance, bearing a large basket well filled with mince-pies, and other
Thanksgiving luxuries for the table. Mr. Morris was going to distribute
them among certain poor families, to whom he had sent turkeys the day
before. It was part of his religion to do what he could to enable the
virtuous poor to share in the pleasures proper to Thanksgiving day.
The first cottage at which they called, was a very small one, occupied by
Mrs. Clifton and her daughter Madge. Having received proofs in letters
from her early friends that her story was true, Uncle Morris had hired
this cottage for her, and aided by Mr. Carlton, and a few other
kind-hearted men and women in Duncanville, had furnished it, and put her
in possession. Mrs. Carlton had interested the village ladies in her case,
and they had agreed to keep her supplied with sewing. The poor woman,
cheered by voices of kindness, and by the warm sympathies of her generous
patrons, had pledged herself to abstain from the drinks which had well
nigh ruined her. She had been in her new home for over a week, and was
getting along quite cheerily.
When Jessie and her uncle entered, Madge shrunk behind her mother. Ever
since the day on which Jessie heard her swear, she had acted as though
conscious that there was something between herself and Jessie which kept
them apart. I suppose that something was shame on her own part, and a
dread of being made wicked by being too intimate with her, on Jessie's
part. But whatever it was, Madge had felt uneasy in Jessie's presence from
that time to the present.
"Well, Mrs. Clifton, how are you getting on?" asked Mr. Morris, after
giving her a portion of the contents of the basket, carried by the hired
man.
"Pretty well, Sir, I thank you: indeed, Sir, I owe every thing to you,
Sir."
"No, not to me, my good woman, but to God and this child," said Mr.
Morris, pointing to Jessie; "but for her, your Madge would have gone to
the alms-house, and you, perhaps, would have been kept in prison. It was
to please my niece, here, that I took Madge to our house."
"A thousand blessings upon the dear child, and upon yourself, too, Sir,"
replied the woman with tears in her eyes.
Jessie's heart sent up gushes of sweet feeling at the sight of Mrs.
Clifton's gratitude. With some trouble she coaxed poor Madge to kiss her;
after which she and her uncle left the house.
"It is more blessed to _give_ than to _receive_," said Uncle Morris, as
they walked through the soft snow to the next cottage.
Jessie dwelt upon that remark, saying to herself, as she silently trudged
by her uncle's side--
"That is _so_, I really do believe. I always did like to _receive_, to
have those I love _give_ me something. But I really think I felt happier
in _giving_ Uncle Morris his watch-pocket, and in taking poor Madge home,
than I did in receiving my skates, or rubber boots, or any thing else I
ever had given to me. It's queer it should be so, but so it is. Yes, it
_is_ more blessed to _give_ than to _receive_. I'll remember that as long
as I live."
These musings were broken by their arrival at Mrs. Moneypenny's. Here they
found poor Jack, Guy's _protege_. He had arrived from the hospital the day
before. His leg, though still sore and stiff, was healed. Long confinement
had made his face thin and pale. But he was very glad to find himself at
home again, and was very busy helping his mother get the turkey, sent the
day before by Uncle Morris, ready for the oven.
Here again Jessie found grateful hearts. After some other remarks, the old
lady said--
"That nephew of yours is a wonderful boy, Sir. There ain't another such
boy in all Duncanville. Only think, Sir, how he, a gentleman's son, has
milked and fed my cow, twice a day, ever since my Jack, there, was hurt!
Why, Sir, we should all have been in the alms-house if it hadn't been for
him. May the dear lad never know what trouble means!"
"I'd die for Guy Carlton, any day!" said Jack, his eyes glistening with
grateful tears as he spoke.
"Rather strong language that, my lad!" observed Mr. Morris.
"Well, I would, Sir. He's been so good to my poor mother, I'd do any thing
for him. I never knew such a boy as Guy Carlton," rejoined Jack, with a
warmth that defied contradiction, if it did not carry conviction.
Having again drawn on the contents of the basket for the supply of Mrs.
Moneypenny's table, they withdrew followed by a cloud of good wishes from
the hearts and lips of Jack and his mother.
Thus from cottage to cottage they passed, like angels of mercy, making
glad the hearts of the poor.
Returning from these visits to Glen Morris, they prepared for church,
where they heard a most excellent sermon, on the duty of gratitude to God.
Divine service over, they returned home, sat down at the plentiful table,
and feasted on the good things which usually make up a thanksgiving
dinner, in homes of wealth and comfort.
When the dessert was brought on, a little paper box was placed, by the
servant, beside Guy's plate. His name was written upon it in the
well-known handwriting of his uncle.
"What have you there, Guy?" inquired Hugh, who sat next to his brother.
"Perhaps it's a jack in the box!" suggested Mr. Carlton.
"A watch! A _gold_ hunting-watch! Oh, what a beauty! Just what I've been
wanting," exclaimed Guy, opening the box; "but what's this writing?"
On the inside of the case was this inscription: "Presented to Guy Carlton
in token of my admiration for his kindness to a poor widow in the time of
her distress.--Mr. Morris."
Guy blushed deeply as his brother read this inscription. He was not aware
that his uncle knew about his kindness to the widow. But the old gentleman
had heard all about it from the grateful woman's own lips. He now told the
story to the family. Mr. Carlton was delighted, and spoke words of
approbation that sank deep into Guy's heart, where they were treasured up
with more care than he would have kept ingots of gold.
But there was a frown on Hugh's face. He had no watch, and Guy now had
two. Hence, he felt envious. But before he had time to express himself, as
he was about to do, Guy took his old watch from his pocket and placing it
in Hugh's hand, said:
"There Hugh, I'll give you my old watch. It's a capital time-keeper!"
"Thank you," replied Hugh, repressing his frown, and trying to look
pleased.
"He don't deserve it," said Uncle Morris.
During this last act of Guy's, the servant placed a letter and another
box--a _very_ small one--beside Jessie's plate. Opening the letter, she
read thus:
CITY OF SELF CONQUEST, December, 18--.
DEAR MISS CARLTON:
Permit me to inform you that I have this day been wedded to Miss
Perseverance by the Rev. Mr. Good-Resolution. With your permission, I
and my bride will take up our abode with you at Glen Morris. I have
taken a new name in part, and with my bride's help, I hope to _help_
you more than I formerly _hindered_ you, to keep the rules of the Try
Company. The box contains a gift from a mutual friend, who wishes you
to admit me, in my new estate, to your friendship and confidence.
Very truly yours,
RIGHT IMPULSE.
"Ah, Uncle Morris, you wrote that, I know you did!" said Jessie, laughing,
and looking very archly at her uncle.
"Well, maybe it is an old man's folly that did it. But Jessie, I trust you
have now so far conquered yourself that henceforth your _impulses_ will no
longer be like little wizards tempting you astray, but that they will be
guided by _right resolutions_, and carried out with _perseverance_. You
will thus become a true member of the Try Company, and live both a good
and a useful life."
Jessie now opened her box. Taking a bright little object from its velvet
lining, she placed it on her finger, and holding it up, exclaimed:
"What a dear little thimble! Oh! isn't it pretty?"
It was a golden thimble with her name inscribed upon it. It came from her
uncle, as a token of his approval of her many efforts to bring her
impulses under the control of the law of duty.
"I hope," he said to her after receiving her caresses, "that your hardest
struggles with your old enemy are over. But no doubt the little fellow
will sometimes try to separate himself from his good resolutions and from
his bride Perseverance. When he does so, you will be in danger again. But
be brave! Be thoughtful! Be prayerful! Trust in the Great Teacher! Try,
and try again, and Uncle Morris will never have need to blush for his
niece, Jessie Carlton."
After dinner our young folks got up a grand romp in the parlor. Their
father and uncle joined them, and the jocund hours passed so swiftly, that
the dusk stole upon them unawares.
"Dear me! How early it is dark to-night," said Jessie, as panting with
excitement, she sat down in her own little chair.
"Hours fly on eagle's wings, when people are pleased and busy, as we have
been this afternoon," observed Uncle Morris in reply; "but hark! our
door-bell rings! Somebody is coming in. Boys, put the chairs to rights!"
Before the disordered room could be made fit for a reception, the servant
opened the door, and said:
"Mr. Carlton, will you please step to the door?"
Going to the door, Mr. Carlton found a man standing on the door-step with
a letter in his hand. A carriage stood in front of the piazza. Bowing to
Mr. Carlton, the man handed him the letter, and said:
"I have brought Miss Kate Carlton from New York, to stay with you, Sir.
She is in the carriage. This letter will explain the reasons of her
coming."
Though greatly surprised at the sudden appearance of his niece, Mr.
Carlton did not stop, either to read the letter or ask questions, but went
at once to the carriage, and offering his hand to his niece, said:
"I am happy to see you, my dear, at Glen Morris. Come into the house. John
will see to your baggage."
Kate put her fingers into her uncle's hand, and with a mincing step,
walked into the hall. Mr. Carlton asked the man who accompanied her, if he
would remain all night.
"No, Sir. I thank you. I must return by the last train, which will be
here, as soon as I can get to the station. Good night, Sir!"
"Good night," replied Mr. Carlton.
When Kate was conducted to the parlor, she was of course, greeted with
looks and expressions of great surprise. Jessie sprang to her cousin,
embracing her, and exclaiming:
"Why Kate Carlton, is that you?"
Guy took her hand kindly, and said, "I am glad to see you, Kate."
Hugh also gave her his hand, but his words were not gracious. He said:
"What, _you_ come here again, Kate Carlton!"
Uncle Morris kissed her, and spoke very kindly to her. Somehow, his
instincts told him that her sudden coming to Glen Morris, was caused by
some unexpected evil.
Kate returned these greetings very stiffly. She had a cold nature, which
did not readily respond to the emotions of others. She was tired, she
said, and would like to be shown to her room as soon as possible. Jessie
accordingly conducted her to Mrs. Carlton's room, who was as much
surprised to see her, as the others had been.
As soon as she left the parlor, Mr. Carlton, who had been reading the
letter which came with her, placed his hand upon his forehead, looked very
gravely at Mr. Morris, and said:
"Bad news! Bad news! My brother is a defaulter in the ---- Bank, of which
he was president. He left the city last night, for parts unknown. His wife
is half distracted, and has gone home to her father. She has sent Kate
here."
"A sad case!" remarked Mr. Morris, soothingly. "But are you sure it is
true?"
"Too true, I doubt not. This letter is from my friend, Mr. Estal, a
leading director in the bank. There can be no mistake. It is terrible. Had
my brother lost all his property by honorable misfortune, or had he died
as a good man dies, it would have been nothing to this. Now he is ruined
and disgraced. Terrible! Terrible!"
Mr. Carlton groaned as he uttered these words. His anguish was painful to
witness. His brother's crime pierced his heart. Happily he was able to
weep, and thus relieve the violence of his feelings.
"It is terrible indeed," replied Uncle Morris. "But while we deplore his
fall, let us be thankful that _our_ honor is unstained by his crime. Let
us also strive not to give way to useless grief, but let us spend our
energies in efforts to break the fall of his unfortunate wife and child,
whom he has dragged down with himself to poverty, if not to shame. If
_you_ will give Kate a home, I will see to her education, and will provide
her with clothing."
"Spoken like your noble self!" rejoined Mr. Carlton. "Of course, she shall
have a home, so long as I have one."
A free conversation, between all present, followed this remark, during
which Mr. Carlton tried to make his sons feel, that the most absolute
poverty if combined with integrity, is preferable to wealth allied with
dishonesty, and that it is better to die a pauper's death, than to be
guilty of a dishonorable act.
As for Jessie, her heart was swelling with generous impulses, towards poor
Kate. "I will be a sister to her," said she, in reply to a reference made
by Guy, to Kate's bad behavior during her visit, the previous summer, "and
will do my best to make her both happy and good!"
"Take care, Jessie!" said Guy, laughing. "Perhaps she will tempt the
wizard to forsake his bride, and to take to his old pranks again. What
will you do then?"
"I will try to keep on such good terms with Perseverance, his wife, as to
prevent that," replied Jessie. "See if I don't?"
"Good! I'll request Corporal Try to place your name in his roll of honor,"
said Guy; "but the tea-bell rings, let us go to tea!"
* * * * *
Concluding Note.
Jessie Carlton will appear again in future volumes of the Glen Morris
Stories, in which it will be seen whether her victory over the little
wizard was temporary or lasting; and whether she fulfilled her purpose, to
do her best to make Kate Carlton both happy and good.
THE ALDEN SERIES.
BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.
I.
CHOICE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG 37-1/2
By Joseph Alden, D.D.
II.
RUPERT CABELL, AND OTHER TALES 37-1/2
By Joseph Alden, D.D.
III.
THE OLD REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER 37-1/2
By Joseph Alden, D.D.
IV.
DAYS OF BOYHOOD 37-1/2
FOURTEEN INTERESTING STORIES.
V.
LITTLE CLARA; OR, SELF-CONTROL, &c. 37-1/2
By Mrs. Anna Bache.
VI.
LITTLE DORA; OR, THE FOUR SEASONS 37-1/2
By a Lady of Charleston.
VII.
PEBBLES FROM THE SEA-SHORE,
OR LIZZIE'S FIRST GLEANINGS 37-1/2
By a Father.
VIII.
THE GOOD BOY'S AND GIRL'S PICTURE GALLERY,
WITH ENTERTAINING STORIES 37-1/2
By Morton.
May be had separately, or in neat boxes.
The above series of EIGHT BOOKS contain numerous Illustrations,
are printed on very fine paper, uniformly bound in neat scarlet
cloth, gilt side and back, and are recommended as a choice little
LIBRARY OF BOOKS.
Interesting Juvenile Books,
Published By
HOWE & FERRY
No. 76 Bowery, New York.
THE LU LU LIBRARY:
Twelve beautiful books for small children, comprising--
PICTURE ALPHABET, SIMPLE STORIES,
PICTURE MULTIPLIER, THE JOURNEY AND VISIT,
NEW STORIES FOR GIRLS, BOAT BUILDERS, &c.,
NEW STORIES FOR BOYS, GRANDFATHER'S STORIES,
STORIES FOR CHILDREN, CHILD'S GEM,
LITTLE STORY-BOOK, YOUNG DREAMER,
Neatly done up in Illuminated Paper Covers, each 10 cents,
or per set $0.75
Same Twelve Books as above, half bound, cloth backs, each
12 cents, or per set 1.00
Same Twelve Books as above, scarlet cloth, gilt backs, each
18 cents, or per set 1.75
THE COLMAN SERIES.
New Books, neatly bound in scarlet cloth and gilt backs, with
Illustrations--viz.:
NEW AND TRUE STORIES Price 25 Cents.
HOLIDAY STORIES 25 "
STORIES OF AFFECTION 25 "
PEARL STORY BOOK 25 "
THE PET BUTTERFLIES 25 "
THE TALISMAN 25 "
The whole neatly put up in boxes $1.50
The above series of SIX BOOKS are all short, moral, and interesting
Stories, with many Engravings.
THE GLEN MORRIS STORIES,
A SERIES OF BOOKS DESIGNED TO SOW THE SEED OF PURE, NOBLE,
MANLY CHARACTER IN THE MINDS OF OUR GREAT NATION'S
CHILDHOOD; NOT IN PROSY, UNREADABLE PRECEPTS,
BUT IN A SERIES OF CHARACTERS WHICH MOVE BEFORE
THE IMAGINATION AS LIVING BEINGS
DO BEFORE THE SENSES.
BY FRANCIS FORRESTER, ESQ.
Author of "My Uncle Toby's Library," &c.
Beautifully Illustrated.
Each volume will contain about 256 pages, beautifully bound in fine
muslin, with gilt backs, price 60 cts.; and will be independent of itself,
but there will still be an identity of character throughout the Series.
The Volumes now ready are--
GUY CARLTON--A Boy who belonged to the "Try Company."
DICK DUNCAN--A Boy who loved mischief.
JESSIE CARLTON--A Girl who fought with a troublesome little
wizard, and conquered him.
WALTER SHERWOOD--An easy, good-natured Boy. [In preparation.]
KATE CARLTON--The story of a vain Girl. Ditto.
NOTICES OF THE PRESS.
"Among the excellent books prepared for juvenile readers, this series is
one of the best."--Worcester Spy.
"The form of instruction used in this series is significant of
success."--Ladies' Repository.
"They are written in Francis Forrester's best style, and will be read with
interest by many thousands of young readers. Older persons will sometimes
steal a chance to read them. They are spirited, and full of good
instruction."--Zion's Herald.
"The Glen Morris Stories seem better fitted to imbue into the characters
and dispositions of the younger sons and daughters in our land, sound
moral and religious principles, than almost any other at present
extant."--N. Y. Churchman.
"Forrester blends amusement with instruction, while a high moral tone
pervades his works."--Barre (Mass.) Gazette.