Newspaper Page Text
18 THE
The Family
?iinimi?iiiiiiiniiiiiiiimit?iiiiiiiimnm?
THE WOMAN'S THANKS.
There is so much strong men are thankful
for?
A nation's progress, or a slow strife's
end;
And though I join my praise with theirs
today.
Grave things as these I scarce can comprehend,
So vast are they;
And so, apart, dear God, I pray Thee,
take
My thanks for these Thy little blessings'
sake.
The little common Joys of every day?
My garden blowing in an April wind,
A linnet's greeting and the morning fall
Of happy sunshine through the opened
blind.
The poplars tall.
That guard my threshold, and the peace
that falls,
Like Sabbath stillness, from my humble
walls.
The little simple joys that we forget
Until we lose them; for the lamp that
lights
The pages of the books I love the best,
The hearth's red welcoming on winter
nights,
The kindly jest
That moves within its circle, and the
near
Companionship of those the heart holds
dear.
The dear, accustomed joys we lightly
take
Too much for granted sometimes, as a
child
His father's gifts; and, so remembering,
For these thanks, for these my treasures
piled, i
Each simple thing
Those wiser may forget, dear Father,
take
My thanks for these Thy little blessings'
sake.
?Theodosia Garrison, in Harper's Bazar.
GUNS AND FEATHER BEDS.
Mistress Dent stood shielding her eyes
with her plump hand from the brilliant
sunshine, that fretful morning of the 19th
ui April, xi 10. imii acvcrc uau pnoocu
her house at dawn, calling upon the inmates
to arise, as the British were coming
in force to seize the arms and stores
of the village of Concord, ahd every man
woman and child was deeply stirred.
The home of the Dents was on the
direct road from the hill over which the
British would march into the village, and
a large store of guns lay piled upon the
broad back porch?awaiting the return of
the men to convey them to a place of
safety.
"Do you see them, mother?" asked Dor
othy Dent, anxiously. "What shall we do
if they come before father and my brothers
return?"
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SOUT
"No, they are not yet in sight, child. I
wish they were not here?the arms, I
mean. They are so sorely needed, and
they would fall but an easy prey to the
British, with none but women to defend
them."
"If there were only some safe hidingplace,"
sighed Dorothy, "I would carry
every gun out of their reach myself!"
Grandmother Dent hobbled out to the
sunny porch, a tall, keen-eyed old lady,
with a strain of Quaker blood in her
veins, leaving heavily on her cane. She
had not yet heard the alarming news of
the morning, and she looked searchingly
at the anxious faces as she asked, "What
is thee talking about so earnestly?"
"The British are coming, grandmother,
to seize the stores, and we are trying to
think of some place in which to conceal
the guns," Dorothy replied in her clear
young voice, which her grandmother
could hear better than any other in the
family.
Grandmother Dent did not believe in
wars and fighting; no, no, but there was
a principle within her which rebelled
strongly against armed men taking by
force from private premises what did not
belong to them, and her eyes flashed as
she pondered the situation.
"Has thee sorted the feathers in the
south room feather-bed of late daughter?"
she said at length, looking at her
daughter-in-law with a twinkling smile in
her dark eyes. "It is sunny and still on
the porch; it seemeth a proper day for
such a task."
"Tho VAPV fhinc* ? -iU ?
. w ^ vuiti^ uiuiuci . L/uruiuy
clapped her hands joyfully. "The guns
will never be the worse for a bit of
down."
It was a very peaceful scene which
greeted the eyes of the soldiery which an
hour later marched down the hill.
Grandmother Dent and her daughter,
their heads tied up in pillow-cases, were
busily sorting a great pile of feathers
heaped up on the porch, while the empty
feather tick and several sacks lay on the
floor. They were in full view of the company
which, under the command of Captain
Parsons, swept around the house to
the front door, where they were met by
Dorothy, who had put up her hair in its
most bewitching fashion, and pinned on
a kerchief which became her dimpled
beauty admirably .
"We have orders to search this house,
maiden, for concealed arms," said the
captain, with a bow. "I trow we shall be
allowed to go on with our task n?Rce?hlv
and with expedition."
"Certainly, sir." Dorothy courtesied
with perfect grace, though her heart was
beating violently with excitement. "It
would be a pity to disappoint such courteous
gentlemen of such harmless amusement."
"And while your men explore the secrets
of ladies' bed-chambers, perhaps-you *
will accept some refreshment," suggested
uuruiuj, who eacasm veuea Deneath the
most bewitching smile, as the men were
about to go up-stairs "Huldah, set out
the fresh doughnuts ar\d the last baking
of bread, with apples for the gentlemen."
"Thanks, maiden, but we shall have no
H. December i, 1909.
time for feasting," replied Captain Parsons,
with some reluctance, for American
cookery had always proven toothsome to
his Birtish palate, and they had had a
long march. "We have more serious work
before us this day, and it ill behooves us
to spend the time in partaking of even
such charming hospitality as yours. By
the way, who are those dames on the
rear porch?"
"My mother and my grandmother, sir,
who bade me crave your pardon that they
were not at liberty to receive you. The
day was fine, and the feathers have long
needed sorting. It is a very important
part of housewifery. Would it please you
to observe how it is done?" and Dorothy
made as if she would open the door which
vri/cucvj ?ju me porcn. " vve Keep tlie doors
shut fast, that the feathers may not fly
inside."
The gayly-clad officer stepped back in
alarm. His uniform was new, and he had
no mind to expose it to a flying cloud of
down.
"I have no interest in your featherpicking!"
he exclaimed hastily.
Meanwhile, Grandmother and Mistress
Dnnf nrn*?/? ,J1- x1 * *"
~?-v .. c uui iuic, mougn iney sat with
anxious hearts listening to the tramp of
soldiers inside, and to Dorothy's clear
young voice, which she purposely raised
so that her mother could hear her.
She was not afraid, now that the first
thrill of fear was past, only that her father
or her brothers might return and
meet with violence at the hands of the
soldiers. Old Huldah was close at hand,
and these men were gentlemen, such as
she had met in Colonial society many
times and she trusted her nimble tongue
and stout heart to protect her.
Mistress Dent acted at once on the
hint which the captain's remark gave
her and the down was flying merrily
when a party came around the house to
search the stables and outbuildings.
"A murrain seize the feathers!" cried
one of them as a handful, deftly helped
along its way by grandmother's violent
coughing, sailed out and fastened upon
his gay coat sleeve, where he in vain endeavored
to pluck it off, only succeeding
in spreading it the length of his arm, and
exposing himself to the gibes of his fellow-soldiers.
The soldiers marched away without discovering
the secret of the precious store,
and brave Dorothy watched them with a
very white face and trembling hands, for
it had been a severe strain upon even
her healthy nerves.
No one came for the guns, for the father
and his sons were defending the
hr i H arc* on/1 o,l*K i ?- '*
tt .(.u DitA uearw me women
heard the sounds of the firing in the distance,
not knowing whether any of the
loved ones would return alive. It was
evening before Roger Dent and his sons
returned flushed with the victory of the .
day and the guns were still covered with
their downy disguise.
"Blessing on the geese that shed their
feathers in a cause so glorious," said Dorothy's
father, as he smoothed her hair
tenderly, "and on the little daughter who
could play the hostess to her enemies so
bravely and discreetly."?Good Gheer.
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