Newspaper Page Text
Being the True Stcry That Grandmother Gibbons Told Her Grandchildren Every
Thanksgiving and Birthday.
“1 was eight and your great-aunt
Virginia ten when we had the
Thanksgiving and birthday in one,
which we never forgot. Our mother
was a Southern woman. She gave to
her first child the name of her be
loved State. If Virginia had been a
boy his name would have been
George Washington. When 1 was
born two years later to a day I was
named Georgio Washington. Your
great-grandfather died three months
before I was born. Our birthday
came the 20th of November, so near
to Thanksgiving that mother always
celebrated the two days in one.
“This that I am going to tell hap
pened long before the Civil War; for
the first time in our lives the Thanks
giving Day for Massachusetts was
appointed on the 20th day of Novem
ber. We, all went early to the meet
ing-house the Sunday before, for we
knew wo were going to hear the
Thanksgiving proclamation. All the
children in the meeting-house kept
wide awake that morning, and Virgie
and I nudged eacli other when the
minister opened ihe proclamation
with a rattle and spread it on the
desk.
“Wo knew what wap. coming. We
could repeat the conclusion word for
word. ‘Given at the Council chamber
♦n Boston this day * * * by His Ex
cellency the Governor, George N.
Briggs, and by the advice and consent
of the Council.’ That, sounded great,
and when the minister repeated slow
ly, ‘God save the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts,’ it was grand! 1 felt
as if I filled the meeting-house, be
cause if George Washington had no f
been the ’father of his country,’
where would Massachusetts be?
“The night before the great day
tve were standing at the kitchen ta
ble, watching mother unjoint the
boiied chickens for the chicken pie,
when the clock struck 8. She lighted
a tallow candle and gave it to Virgie.
It was our bedtime. ‘Oh,’ said I, as
I dumped down in the feather bed,
‘isn’t it beautiful, Virgie, to have
birthdays and Thanksgiving all to
gether? A.fid isn’t mother kind? I’m
just as happy!’ ,
“ ‘So am I,’ said Virgie, giving me
a hug. ‘I know something.’
.. ..... . . i dSKBU IB &
whisper.
“Then she told me that she was
going to get up before anybody else,
in the house and steal out softly, and
go to the north pasture and get some
red berries to hang over George
Washington’s portrait, in the front
room, to please moth a, and because
it would be appropriate to my birth
day.
‘Let’s,’ said i. it will be splen
did,’ and then I tol l liar, what was
true, that she was always thinking of
something to please somebody, and
then we said our pi i,y a . and cuddled
down to sleep.
“It didn't seem but i minute after
that when I sat up and rubbed my
eyes. Virgie was ah ady tying her
lenthernshoestring.i. ’Georgie Wash
ington Howe, get up this minute; it’s
ns light as a cork,’ she said. Tm not
going to put up my hair, it will take
too much time, and it will keep me
warm,' and she 1 t fall a cloud of
gold over her shoulders.” Grand
mother Gibbons’ voice always trem
bled a little here. "You’ve seen the
portrait of your gr at aunt Virginia,
children. It’s true wliat I told you.
She was the most beautiful woman I
ever saw; her hair was like spun
gold.
“We put our surtouts over our
thick woolen dresses, tied on our
warm woolen hoods an t tiptoed ou*
for fear of waking !' mi > in the shed.
Virgie asked me to wait on the stone
step while she hrmVght a bowl of
mother’s chicken broth. It was
thick and nourishing. It tasted good.
“We drove the cow:; to the north
pasture every summei morning; we
knew every nook an i corner of it,
but we’ didn’t know the difference be
tween broad daylight and moonlight,
and great was our surprise when we
reached the pasture bars, to see the
moon going down, md no sign of
morning, but Virgie kept hold of my
hand and said, ‘Nev i mind, Georgie
Washington, we can find the path,
and the flat rock by the black walnut
tree, if the moon doesn't shine.’
“ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but how can we find
the berries if it’s pit; h dark, Virgie?’
“ ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘it. won’t be dark
long; it can’t, because everybody
knows it's time for the sun to rise
when the moon goes down; and lots
cf times I’ve seen the sun and moon
shining both together in the sky,
haven’t you, Georgie Washington?’
“‘Yes,’ I said, stumbling into a
thorn bush and beginning to cry, ‘but.
Virgie, this doesn't seem like the
path; where’s the black walnut tree,
and flat rock? They ought to be
here, but they aren't here!’
“ ‘We may be a little out of the
path, Georgie Washington,’ she said
bravely, ‘but anyway, we are in thp
right pasture, and here’s a rock with
a back to it, so let’s sit down and
wait,’ and she put her arm in a
motherly way around me, and pil
lowed my red hooded head upon her
shoulder. ‘l’m glad I didn’t put up
my hair.’
“ ‘So'm I, Virgie,’ said 1, as I
nestled against the soft cushion.
‘Your hair is the loveliest I ever saw,
Virgie, and mine is Bhort and stiff
like bristles. I hate it.’
“ ‘But you’re real good, Georgie
Washington, and as soon as ever we
get home, I’m going to give you a
real boughten doll,’ she said, ‘to have
for your very own birthday, and to
keep always.’ ”
Grandmother Gibbons did not need
to tell the children tnat she had kept
the “boughten doll;” they had all
seen it.
“Well, children, the next thing, it
seemed the stars all faded, and the
darkness deepened around us. I don’t
know how long we waited, while I
lay with my head pressed against
fHi HIS REPENTANCE:. Mf
v'Hl Dy Laura fc .Richards f m *rf
V X\A Bj|ly went' dinner When the midnight hour struck, fjf !/
Wll day , Billy boy was ill, -WJ
V Vji With htj Had to take a bitter draft j/l'
V\\ dujt across the way. And a brownish full. I //I
v. 4 Bat him down at two o'clock, “Hotber, a mistake l made!’// //
f-w M.. n ’t rise till f'lv/e, Sipbed the little sinner. M*ir
V»I Ne’er stored eating all the time, “Cause I thought that I was l&J
▼ Sure <ls I’m cuWe Bitter than the dinner VlW'
your great-aunt Virginia’s shoulder,
but I heard her calling to me, *Gecr
gle Washington, this will never do.
You must not go to sl.eep; we must
get up and walk around.’
“ I don’t want to walk around,
Virgie,’ I said. ’1 want to go home,
that’s what I want.’
“ ‘We’ll walk toward home,’ said
Virgie, taking hold of my hand, and
starting up. ‘We’re not in tli 3 path,
but we can’t be far from it, and we
must keep walking, for you must not
go to sleep. Here’s the black walnut
tree.’
“Virgie gave a sudden spring for
ward, and fell. She told your great
grandmother Howe, after it was all
over, that it seemed as if she fell
tulles and miles. Then it came over
her like a flash, we had come through
the wrong bars, and were over the
gorge! That dreadful gorge where
we were never allowed in broad day
light’ Virgie fell till she stopped on
a ledge not larger than her two feet,
but her hair had been caught by an
out-reaching tree branch, and it held
her. True to her nature, her first
tbought,even then, was for me.
“ ‘Georgie Washington, are you up
"here?' she called. Her voice sound
ed through the darkness far away.
” ‘Yes, Virgie, lam here!’ I think
my teeth chattered. ‘Where are
you?’
“ ’Stand still! Don’t stir a step!
Don’t go to sleep, we’re over the
gorge. I’m caught by the hair and
we must wait!’
“No one will ever know, children,
how long we waited. It seemed to
me as if all at once I grew to be a
woman. It seemed to me as if God
had given Virgie’? life into my keep
ing. 1 kept calling down to her,
telling her tha, it would soon be
lighter, and that I felt sure that some
way, somehow, I could save her.
“At last It came, children, the first
streak of the morning! I stooped
over, and looked down that awful
abyss, but the sight only gave me
courage. ‘Virgie,’ I cried, and my
teeth didn’t chatter this time, for
when God wants us to do anything,
children, no matter how difficult, He
will give us the will and the strength
to do it. ‘Virgie, I can see you, you
are not half way down, but keep
still a low minutes, and I can save
you’.”
“How did you do it, grandma?”
always asked the children.
“I didn’t know how I was going
to do It, at first, but I began, very
slowly, to make my way, not straight,
but in a zigzag fashion, slowly and
carefully down to the shelf over
which Virgie hung. There was a lit
tie platform of rock, on which I
stopped. It was growing lighter
every minute, as I reached up to the
twisted tree branch. Thou God let
me see how I was going to be able
to save my sister. You know how
I did it, children.”
“You untwisted her hair,” from
the children in chorus.
”Yes, those beautiful. Strong locks
of hair, all kinked and snarled and
held as in a vise, partly with my
teeth, partly with my fingers, 1 loos
ened every golden thread.
“ ’Now,’ 1 said, ‘Virgie, you are
free' Catch hold of this limb that I
swing down to you! Catch hold and
climb!’
’Oh, Georgie Washington,’ she
cried. ’I can’t! I'm dizzy! I shall
faint.’
“I eould\see that her strength was
failing, but I wouldn’t give up that
1 could save her; so I put all of my
self into my voice, and I may have
prayed, but I didn’t know it, then.
“ No, you won’t faint, Virgie,’ I
called. ‘You won't faiut; you won't
fall! You can't; you’ve got the limb.
Now here's my hand; let’s climb!
We can see every step now, Virgie.’
"We climbed slowly, s*ep by step,
zigzagging, picking cur way up, and
gaining courage till at last we fell in
each other’s ar ns, on to the level at
the top, and that is' the way I met
an emergency, the Thanksgiving and
birthday we never forgot. And that
is the way I saved your great-aunt
Virginia.”—From Good Housekeep
ing.
DREAM
| AST NIGHT I iiad a fearful dream; 1
tremble even yet!
1 saw a table long and wide, with many
dishes 'set:
And at one end I seemed to lie, helpless,
aDd fat, and hot,
And could not move a foot or wing to
hasten from the spot!
My stomach was uncomfortable; I could
not draw my breath,
Nor make a sound, howe’er I tried; I
really felt like death!
I couldn’t seem to find my head; my heart
was out of place,
And somehow I had sadly lost my dignity
and grace!
Then such a racketing arose, and scurry
ing through the hall.
And then a lot of people came —master,
and wife, and all
The children who h»d been so kind and
given me loads to eat—
They danced around my prostrate form;
my downfall was complete!
Deceitful creatures! that they are; for in
my dream they said
“Ha, ha, Old Turkey! Wn ere’s vour pride
now you have lost your head?”
1 quivered with my burning wrongs, but
no one seemed to care.
For all sat down around the board and
bowed their heads in prayer.
And then my master, that good man, took
up a dreaded knife,
And held it slantwise over me; I trembled
for my life!
But when a great fork pierced my breast,
1 gave a jump anil scream,
And nearly tumbled off my perch in wak
ing from my dream!
“Downside Up” —lf the Creatures
Were Masters and the
Man Underling.
Monkeys are remarkaDly keen ot
sight, but deficient in sense at smell.
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COM
MENTS FOR NOV. 21 BY THE ,
REV. I. YV. HENDERSON- 4!
*
Subject: YY'orld’s Temperance Sun
day, \ Rom. 14:12-23 Golden
Text, Rom. 14:17 Memory
Y'erses, 19-21.
The nub of the lesson is to be
found in the stumbling block and the
judgment seat.
We are to be scrupulous in all
things as well as in the use of intoxi
cating liquors lest we shall be stum
bling blocks. And we are further to
be very careful because we are to
render account before the judgment
seat of the Almighty according to our
deeds in this life.
It is usual to apply this scripture
to the man or woman who uses intox
icants. Especially is it applied to the
Christian man or woman who uses
liquor. And it is well. Drink is a
good thing to dispense with regard
less of our rights. It is a waste of
money. Its pleasure is fallacious.
Its consequences are too uncertain
and may be definitely vicious. Its
influence may be worse than we ever
dream it could become through us.
Taking all things into consideration
it is no unwisdom to say that every
man ought to leave liquor entirely
alone as a beverage.
But while it is the custom Ir re
member what we ought to do with
liquor or ought not to do with it in
its personal relations to us it is quite
as largely the fashion to forget that
the most of us, especially those of us
who are given the suffrage of a free
manhood in this land, deliberately
place liquor as a stumbling block in
the way of men. And we do it by
permitting the business to exist at all.
We do it by granting it the right by
and with the consent of the Govern
ment, which in fact we are, to create
as well as to supply a demand, to
bring sorrow and misery and destruc
tion and death into the homes of our
fellow-men. ■
It is not enough that a man shall
refrain from drinking intoxicating
liquor himself. He must see to it
that so far as his consent at least is
concerned the Government will not
be allowed to grant a license to a
business which the whole Southland
for economic and moral reasons is
getting rid of, which the courts of
the country have declared to be a
nuisance and to have no constitution
al right to exist, w'hicb is admitted to
be a chief agent of the forces of wick
edness wherever it is found, which
debauches government and destroys
the opportunity for multitudes of men,
women and children to possess that
peace and contentment and chance in
life to which under the Constitution
of this Country as under the laws of
Almighty God they are entitled.
Furthermore it is illogical for a
Christian man who has done his duty
in the premises so far as his civic re
lations to his own community or com
monwealth is concerned to refuse to
wage the fight relentlessly against
the national forces of this organized
iniquity. For we are not simply a
confederation of States, we are a na
tion. And Massachusetts helps to
make the laws that regulate the pub
! lie policy of the State of Oregon. The
South makes law for the North as
well as for itself. And if it is wise
for a man to refuse the sanction of
his suffrage to the allied forces of
the liquor business in the State of
Georgia it is no less wise for him to
protest against a governmental ac
quiescence to its national existence.
A man who is an abolitionist so far
as the saloon is concerned in the city
of Boston has no business to be any
thing else than that as a citizen of
this United States.
The liquor business will go when
the church ceases to allow it to be a
stumbling block in the way of a na
tion. And it will not go before. But
whether it go for economic or for
moral reasons its end is in sight and
sure. For it is as unscientific as it
is immoral to allow it to exist. To
perpetuate it is to perpetuate a
plague and a national disgrace. And
we will not do it.
We ought to refuse to sanction it
at all because of the fact that we
shall give an account before the
judgment seat of Christ according to
our deeds done in the flesh. It is
doubtful that any Christian man will
upon sober second thought care to
admit in the presence of Almighty
God that by and with his personal
consent as a citizen of America the
curse of the American saloon, ruined
homes, blighted lives, sank precious
souls for whom Jesus died in the
mire of unspeakable iniquity. It is
doubtful if any of us if we thought
»f it carefully would care to have
upon our souls at the judgment day
any portion whatsoever of the blood
that has been wrung from innocent
hearts by the viciousness of the liquor
business. But so long as we perpet
uate it we are responsible In no un
real fashion for it, for its crimes, for
its attendant misery.
God grant that soon we shall all
see that to grant a license to the
liquor business is no better than li
censing a brothel or incest or murder
or all the crimes upon the code. God
grant that soon the church will see
'the blood that is upon her hands.
For we have stood so idly by and
given our consent. Like Paul when
the church awakes to a consciousness
of her wickedness there will be an
exhibition of religious consecration
that will revolutionize the world.
Eternal Life.
Eternal life is not a quantity—it
is quality. It is not something we
receive when the pilgrimage is over;
it is something we have at this pres
ent moment. —Rev. G. C. Morgan,
Presbyterian, New York City.
