THANKSGIVING ON THE FARM.
Ef there'll wiin thing morc'n t'other,
Ati tome folks of'ii nay,
A ninkcH n chitp feel kinder good,
Kt Ih ThnnkHKlvIn' dayl
1-Vr even ef he h lind hard lurk
An' things hn'n't bin Jrn' right
There'll Iota o' folks linn lind It, tu,
Krtini imirnlit' until ulxht,
An', w'en we kinder reckons tip
Our pleasures with our pain
An' take the hull year thru' an' thro'
Wo surely ean't complain;
We've had Rood health, enulT ter cat,
An' docs ennn" ter wear,
An' mostly there's a turkey fat
W'cil TuaitkHKlvIn' drawn near,
An' then, thank (lod, the rent la paid,
The houses they've cot hay,
The cattle hn'n't pot no disease,
There's no old scores to pay;
This iiiornln' my old pi I an' inn
Jes' tuk a look aroun',
Tlie same an we've dun ev'ry year
Kore snow lays on the groun';
Her. 1, "There's Mister Oolililer thero
A-struttlu' roun so Kay,
Hut inehhc he'll forglt ter strut
'Ilout nex' Tlianksxlvlir day."
11 cosh It made me feel as proud
JiH any millionaire,
As Mess an' me walked roun' the farm
An1 tn It the iiiornln' air;
I knew her old heart Jes' felt Kind
1'Vr thliikln' 'hont our Jim
A-eomlii' with his new made wife
Ter sing 'niankMKlvIn' hymn.
An' so, a It ho' we hn'n't got rich,
we'll thank the Lord an' sav,
I er what we hcv, Almighty (Soil,
.We give thee thanks this day.
H. Wakefield Hinlth. In MiKTalo News.
"8
"What nro nil those things, Auntie?"
nskod Vivian, coming suddenly into Aunt
Catherwood's room. Aunt Catherwood
was In thu closet. Near the door was
n heap of cnst-olT garments.
"Oh, they're old dot lies I'm Hemline
to your Undo Catherwood's sinter who
lives out West," wuh the ninlllcd reply.
"She's very poor, ho I always send her
n liox once n yo.ir about Thanksgiving."
Vivian looked again at thu pile of gar
inentB. She was n Mil, golden-haired
girl of fifteen, with n sweet, charming
face, though a little pale ami thin just
now. Aunt Catherwood was her fath
er's sister, ami Vivian had come to visit
lior for u few weeks. She had hud a
ilaiiKoroiiH iliiaH in the summer, ami
the old family physician having ordered
for her n change of climate and a change
of scene, she had left home, friends ami
schoolmates, and n lonely time she had
of it.
Vivlnn did not care much for Aunt
Cntlierwood. She wns so different from
what she thought her dear father's sister
ought to he, still, somehow, she felt sorry
lor her.
Aunt Cntlierwood was rich, but she
had no children. She loved to save
money and was very close about spend
ing it. She, gnve little, if anything, to
charities, ami was a stern and exacting
mistress-to her servant h. The big house
illicit bo handsome enough, but to Vivian
it was. inexpressibly gloomy.
"Are there any children V" asked Viv
lnn Interestedly, still gazing nt the
clothes.
"Yes, two. I believe there's n girl
about your ago. Gladys is her name.
Sho writes to your Undo Catherwood
occasionally; always after I send a box.
I must say, however, that her letters
nro not over ami above grateful. And
to thiol; of the trouble 1 go to, too. They
expect everything and never have any
thing to give themselves."
Vivian looked nt tho varied assort
ment again. A frayed dress skirt, some
what soiled, lay at the bottom of the
heap. There were some old stockings
and shoes, a black woolen dress that was
moth-oaten, n worn jacket, and two or
three old bonnets. There wasn't really
it good article among them, and Vivian
wnxed indignant us she took stock of
thorn.
"There, I believe that's all," announc
ed Aunt Catherwood, emerging from the
closet with a wrinkled and faded dress
ing' 8ncliio in her hands. "What a nui
sance poor relatives are. If they'd save
their money they wouldn't need any
help."
Vivian felt very sorry for these poor
relations of Uncle Catherwood's. Vivian
did not know nnythlug about poverty,
for her father, too, was a rich man,
nnd sho had everything sho wnnted, but
sho could form something of an opinion.
It must bo unpleasant to be obliged to
wear clothes like those before her, and
thero wasn't a thing there that was suit
able, or could bo made to do for Gladys.
"We'll pad: them in that box stand
ing in tho hall," said Aunt Catherwood
briskly. "I told James to bring it. up
this morning. To-night I'll send it off."
Two hours later Aunt Catherwood de
parted In her carriage for her round of
engagements. Sho looked very stately
nnd imposing in her silk and laces, with
her white, jeweled hands and fashion
nbly dressed hair. Vivian watched at
the wjiulow until tho carriage was out
of sight, tllen she turned away. "Now
Is my chance," she whispered merrily.
"My, I'm so glad sho had to gr away."
Her fnco lighted up and sho nodded
in n pleased fashion to herself. Tho big
house wns ns lonely as ever, but some
how Vivian did not mind it. The box
kept her compajiy,.. She smiled happily
as sh.o vanished into her room.
Shuv was gone quite n while. When
Bho ciimo out her arms were laden. She
eat down by tho box, depositing her bur
den carefully on the floor. Tho first
thing she took up was a gray dress made
In the prevailing fashion. A beautiful
dress It wnB, soft and rich nnd line, vyltl
n pink velvet collar nnd cuffs,
"I'm glad I can send this," she mur
mured. "1 don't really need it nnd moth
er won't earo when I tell her, Sho al
ways said It was so becoiiilng, and I
hope. It will bo to Gladys. Then here's
these shoes. 1 can spare tnem, ana tins
ribbon. I've heaps of ribbons. Girls
have to havo plenty. I'm going to put
In a white petticoat, too, and these hand
kerchiefs, nnd perhaps she won't care
-Cliidnnntl Tost
for it, but I'm going to send this fan.
Maybe some time she'll want to go to a
party. Girls do go to parties if they
are poor, and then It'll come in good.
Oh, yes, I must not forget a pair of
gloves and some boot lacings. Now I
must put these carefully nt the very bot
tom where. Aunt Cntlierwood won't see
them, r Oh, I do hope Gladys will be
pleased."
With n bright face and nimble fingers,
she finished her labor of love, then crept
happily a way.
Aunt Catherwood viewed tho box as
sho came home from the last tea. Vivian
had followed her upstairs.
"The box makes quite a showing,
doesn't it, Vivian V" she asked. "I did
not think it wns near so full. I guess,
after all, I won't put In the gingham.
I've given them enough. I hope they'll
bo properly grateful; after all my trou
ble, they ought to be."
"When Is the party, Gladys?"
"The tilth, and oh, mother, I do want
to go so. Beth is my best friend. 1
can't tell her why I must stay away,
and yet I'll have to. Isn't there some
way that you could manage, mother?"
Mother shook her head. "A new dress
Is impossible now, dear," sho answered;
"later, I might get one perhaps, but with
winter coming on, there's so many things
we must have. Rent to pay, and coal
and groceries we can't do without. Aunt
Catherwood's box conies this mouth.
Perhnps "
"Oh, mother, there's never anything
In that," cried Gladys, rebellious!)'.
"Don't you remember last year when
times were so hard and you were sick,
all she sent was some worn-out llannels,
an old opera cape and two or three straw
hats?"
"Aunt Catherwood's box has come,"
nnuouueed Hen a day or two later. Ben
was n year and a half younger than
Gladys and looked n good deal like her.
"The man's just bringing it in now,' 'he
added.
Hen went for tho hatchet. When he
came back he glanced at Gladys. Gladys
was standing looking at tho box.
"If you have tears to shed, prepare to
shed them now," ho said solemnly, us
ho pried open n board. Though only a
boy, Hon had a keen souse of humor
which much poverty and many disap
pointments could not wholly, subdue.
The lid was off and the first article
Hen drew from the box was the old
dressing sacquc. Gladys groaned nnd
mother looked sympathetic. Next came
the woolen dress, nnd in quick succes
sion the other nrticles. Gladys turned
away. She wasn't going to witness any
more unpacking. It wns too bitterly dis
appointing. Suddenly she heard an ex
clamation from mother and Hon.
"Gladys, come here!" called mother
excitedly.
Gladys went back. There stood moth
er witli a dress in her hands. A beauti
ful gray dress with a pink velvet collar
and cuffs, evidently Intended for her.
Gladys stood still, transfixed with as
tonishment. "Oh, mother," she cried, "do you think
that's really mennt for me?"
"It must be," said mother smiling
'happily, "and look here, dear, nt the
s"hoes, handkerchiefs, gloves, ribbons,
fan. white skirt, all Intended for the
sniwV little maiden. Why, you'll be rich,
GladVs, with all theso treasures, nnd
just ib you were needing them, too, so
inuehA I feel rebuked. I might have
known God would have provided for
us."
"Well, you are a lucky girl," said
Hen emphatically. "I wonder what got
into Aunt Catherwood's stingy soul. The
grace of God, I guess. You can go to
that. part', after nil, Gladys."
"I had such a nice letter today from
Gladys," remarked Uncle Catherwood
that evening. "She thanked us for the
box you sent them, nnd especially for a
dress that came in it. A beautiful dress
she called It. Did you send such a nice
one, Anna ?"
Aunt Catherwood looked up. She and
Vivian were sitting across from Uncle
Catherwood over n cheerful, open lire.
"A dress? Yes," she answered, Hush
ing a little, "but it wasn't exactly
beautiful. It was one of mine I did not
care for."
Undo Catherwood looked puzzled.
"Here's her letter," lie went on, adjust
ing hi- glasses. "Let mo read it to you.
There's a mistake somewhere."
"Drnr Uncle nnd Aunt Catlurwood." It
lK-j.au.
"I write to thank you for the box which
arrived Mtfclr. I can never he grateful
enoi'gh for the beautiful pray dress It con
tained, which I so much needed. It lit tod
perfectly and I wore It to the party of my
dearest friend. If It had not Ween for the
present of that dress, I couldn't have gone.
I can't say enoiiKh to exiirciss my thanks.
I couldn't begin to write them, hut I do
want you to know how happy you have
made me. The shoes tlttcd, too, and I wore
also the white skirt and ribbons and car
ried the fnn. With everything I needed, I
had a lovely time. It wns so nice not to
be shabby, but to know that I was ns well
dressed ns anyone. Mother adds her thanks
to mine. I wish I could do something In
return for you, but ns I can't, I'll Juut sign
myself your grateful and loving niece.
"GLADYS."
Aunt Catherwood flushed more than
ever, and looked uncomfortable. With
all her closeness she was not dishon
orable, nor would she-take honor where
it was not due. In her amazement and
doubt, she looked across at Vivian.
Vivian's face was scarlet. Like a
(lash, a light broke in upon her. Vivian
lind a dress of tho kind described, and
she had not worn It lately.
"Vivian," demanded Aunt Cather
wood, "I believo you sent Gladys your
gray dress."
Uncle Catherwood had laid nslde the
letter and was regarding her, too. Vivian
blushed a rosier red than ever, but she
did not Hindi.
"Yes," she replied bravely, "I did send
it, Aunt Catherwood. I slipped it in the
box the afternoon you went out. I I
felt sorry for Gladys, nnd I sent her
some of my things. I have so many,
and I thought she'd be pleased."
Unde Cntlierwood suddenly took off
his glasses. There was a mist upon'
them. Aunt Catherwood, too, looked
moved.
"Vivian," said Uncle Catherwood, n
trifle huskily, "you're a good girl, and I
I shan't forget It. So you sent Gladys
tho things, did yoa? Well, I'm obliged
to you, child. Parted with some of your
own finery, did you, for a girl you'd
never seen, and never mentioned it?
That's the right spirit. Well, well, not
many would have done it, and God bless
you, my dear."
Aunt Catherwood sat silent. In her
mind's eye she saw that heap of worn
out,, shabby garments, and her own
selfishness wns laid bare.
"I might have sent them something
better," she thought remorsefully. "I'M
do better next year, and yes, I won't
wait till next year, cither. I'll send
them a box, n noble one, with nothing
old or worn-out in it, and Gladys shall
come in for her share, too, ns sure as
my name is Anna Josephine Cather
wood," nnd she did. The Ham's Horn.
THANKSGIVING FAVORS.
Some Pretty Trifles that Enhance the
Festive Table.
Observance of national holidays is not
considered complete In these days of in
ventiveness without the Introduction of
decorations or favors particularly agree
able to tho occasion. Thanksgiving be
ing a festival time, offers a special op
portunity for the favor designs. And
the shops teem with novelties suggestive
of the day and its timo-honored manner
of observance.
This being the football season ns well
as Thanksgiving time the hero of the
gridiron and his famous leather sphere
serve also ns models of favors and dec
orative adjuncts and these mementoes
are found side by side with the distinct
ly Thanksgiving souvenirs and share
popularity with the latter.
Most of the souvenirs are inexpensive,
but the hostess who feds inclined to
spend a good round sum on n certain
centerpiece or n collection of small fa
vors can find plenty of excuse for so do
ing in this season's collection. For in
stance, she might select the football
centerpiece pictured above with n mass
of chrysanthemums rising from the cen
ter. The flowers are realistically fash
ioned from crepe paper and nil the hues
of the natural blossom are reproduced.
Then there is the enndy box, with its top
of chrysanthemum petals, colored In the
various college tints nnd appropriately
lettered, or the football in leather line
nnd tho box on which Is mounted a
papier macho collegian, togged in full
regalia and grasping n football. Useful
for candy or ices nro the realistic re
ceptacles in tho shape of n plum pud
ding, turkey or squash, which do not
rank nmong the high priced souvenirs.
A place card simulating a wishbone
is an apt suggestion. And so, too, the
dinner favor in football form.
An Up-to-Diuo Turkey.
Willie This is an up-to-date turkey,
papa.
l'apa In what way, Willie?
Wi'lle Why, It has drumless drum
sticks. -New York Times.
Anonymity seems to be becoming
the fashion In literature. Tho Mnc
mlllnn Co. has recently Issued four
anonymous novels, each of which hit
moro than usunl pretensions to lltcr
nry merit. They nro "Tho House of
Cards," "At tho Sign of tho Fox,"
"Sturmseo" nnd "Mrs. Darrell." t
Gustavo Kobbcj so well known nsTWS
writer upon musical subjects In tho
lending lragazincs and reviews, has
been esteemed ns a musical critic
for nearly a quarter of a century. Ills
most recent work is "Loves of tho
Great Couposcra." lie is tho author
of n numlcr of books, among which
"The Ring of tho Nlbelung," "Wag
ner's Life and Works," 'Tinys for
Amateurs," "Opera Singers," nnd
"SIgnora: A Child of tho Opera
House," arc 'tnc most important.
It is snld that last year no less than
7,000 visitors wore recorded as having
boon nt Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott's;
estate, though people of fine tusto In
their time 'had little enough to say in
Its praise. Dr. John Brown called it
"ugly Abbotsford;" Ruskin described
It ps "tho most Incongruous pile gon
telmanly modernism over designed;"
Dean Stanley said It was "a place to
visit once, but never again." But It
Is not for t'jo place, per se, thrr visi
tors go, but for its associations vvitli
its former owner.
Dr. Foils Adlcr, author of n num
ber of books of serious Import, btw
an international reputation as a 7w
who has fitted himself to contempor
ary circumstance. IIo has left the
close-bound faith of his father and
has ncquired and promulgates the ost .
philosophy of his time a philosophy
which includes some of tho greater
doctrines of Christ, but which so far
accords with the scientific spirit ns to
preclude miracles nnd mysteries. IIo
is widely recognized ns one of tho
great character-makers of tho coun
try. Dr. Adlcr Is professor of political
and social ethics at Columbia Univer
sity, and editor of the IntcrnsSonal
Journal of Ethics.
Hon. J. M. Longley makes this very
true observation in tho Canadian Mag
azine: "Fifty years ago the maga
zine contained articles on philosophi
cal and religious subjects. Scarcely
any venture to deal witli such topics
now, and a glanco at their contents
will show that the articles now sought
by the people are cither short stories,
historical curiosities or dcscrlptlorii-t
material progress taking place all
"ver the world, including fresh inven
tions and scientific discoveries." Is is
only necessary to note tho great num
ber of periodicals whoso solo purpose
is to anntse and entertain which arc
bought and read and thrown away, to
recognize that Mr. Longley might
have said much more nnd still havo
kept within tho limit of truth.
V.EW OF THE GRAND CANYON.
How u Painter Flrat Showed Ita Glories
to His Hrlcle.
"An artist who loved the wilderness
brought his bride to the head of tho
Bright Angel trail. It was night when
they came to their Journey's end, nnd
the man persuaded tho woman not to
look upon the Grand canyon until
morning. When tho sun was high ho
blindfolded her and led her out of tho
log J'otel that stood upon tho brink of
tho precipice to a point of rock that
overhangs tho abyss.
For two days and nights they had
been riding through tho desert, flat and
gray, with blue mountains llicklng in
and out of the horizon, with a few jar
ring crevasses and buttes and bluffs
to emphasize the tranquillity of tho
scene. The desert, with its somber
serenity, had charmed her soul and left
It in a fine repose. As sho stood blind
folded sho could think of nothing but
the great level stretches of sand and
sage and cactus. Tho man had told
tho woman little of tho canyon, and
when ho took the bandage from her
eyes he held her very tightly as sho
looked out across tho miles and mllc3
)f tumult of form nnd riot of color
hat seemed to swirl thousands of feet
Delow her and around her.
As from the clouds she looked down
Into an Illimitable, red-tinged, ash
jolored hell, abandoned and turned to
itone, eons and eons ago. Sho stared
imazed at tho awful tiling for a long
aiinnte, and then, ns tho tears of In
ixpllcablo emotion dimmed her eyes,
the turned and cried vehemently at hor
(rtist husband:
"If you ever try to paint that I'll
leave you!" McCIuro's Magazine.
Wanted That Kind.
"Thero are somo spectacles," do.
clared tho lecturing arctic explorer,
"that one can never forgctl"
"Excuse mo, mister," called 'tho
voico of Farmer Foddershucks from
the audience, "but would yo mind
glvin mo tlx' address of tn' linn that
makes 'cm? I'm allers n-forglttln'
'mine." Cleveland Leader.
A flirt always finds plenty of
chances
A