GOLDEN-HOURED Thanksgiving Day-fruit of heroic times! Thy sweet voice has no peer, they say-except the Christmas chimes: Or they themselves true thrift had not-and sad the tales they tell! Are always some whose lives are bound in dungeons dark and drear. And something of a parody on food that people buy. Though maybe given with good grace, and motive quite sincere, The poor of the provision race comes often also here: The fowl, unclogged with fleshly pelf; the bread-loaf underdone; The steak, once stoutly clinging nigh some over-aged bull; The meek and lowly veteran pie, of reminiscence full. But emptiness must ever yet deem any filling rare; And stomachs love to work which get much leisure time to spare. Here two old men, of meek intent, the past are dwelling on; Ah, me! they might be wealthy men, with honors on each brow, Because we've fallen, since The Fall, a good deal lower than Themselves, whose sails have had a chance at Heaven's progressive breeze, While we 'gainst head-winds must advance, and toss on passion-seas. You idiot boy, be vaguely glad; your puzzled griefs discharge! You have some rich relations, lad; your family is large. I rather think that through some trade not far now in advance, But some day, when the time is fit-on some joy-lighted morn— Testing Modern Improvements. BY EDNA G. YOUNG. 44 I WISH somebody would come or "I somethin' would happen to liven things up a bit", remarked Tildy, as she lighted the well filled lamp and sat down with a lonesome air opposite her sister. "So do I", replied the sister, who rarely if ever disagreed with Tildy. These two sisters had lived to advanced years, without having left the state of "single blessedness", and for many years had lived a quiet life in a small cottage on the outskirts of Barnsville. Their income was small and the neighbors knew that Tildy and Abbie, as they were always called, practiced the strictest economy. Almost with envious eyes, these two maiden sisters had watched their more prosperous neighbors put in the electricity, telephone and various other modern improvements. "Now wouldn't it be nice if we had the telephone in", remarked Tildy. "It would be lots of company, wouldn't it? They say it doesn't cost much with three or four on a line. And my! how I wish we had the electric lights! Jest turn a button and no fillin' of old lamps. I'm sick and tired of kerosene, Still-come to think on't", continued Tildy, "I'd rather have the town water put in, than most anything else. Jest turn the faucet and run all the water you want. Jest think how many years you and me has lugged pail after pail of water from our spring back in the holler." "Yes, but it's orful good water", ventured Abbie, who was a little more con ΙΟΙ tented. "Doesn't seem as if we ever had nuthin' we wanted, does it? Don't you mind, how you and me always planned a little sittin' room up stairs where we could sit so cozy like and look down on folks? And here we are yet, paddlin' up and down the same floor, and it 'pears to me, we'll never git no higher up, until we reach the Upper City. But sometimes it does seem hard, now that we're gittin' old, that we can't have some modern improvements. They'd be such a savin' of our old bones." "You be'nt complainin', be you? You know some folks hain't a roof to their heads", replied Abbie. "Yes, yes, that's so, and agin there's them as has more roofs than they know what to do with", answered Tildy. Just then a knock was heard at the door and Abbie timidly opened it. "Good morning, Abbie", said young Dr. Gilson. "I'm in a hurry, so I can't come in. Mrs. Gilson and I leave tomorrow afternoon and will be gone over night, and we wish you and Tildy to come up and keep house for us, if you will. Bring your sewing, and use the house, as if it was your own." "Very well, doctor, we'll be glad to come", and he was gone. "Now ain't that nice!" exclaimed Tildy. "We've been wishin' for a change of some kind and now it's come. How I shall enjoy livin' in that big house with an upstairs and the conveniences." The sisters were fond of young Dr. Gilson, for at one time, he had taught a district school and boarded with them. The next afternoon two old ladies with sewing-basket walked up the broad steps of Dr. Gilson's splendid home. only to find some others talking over the 'phone, as she listened attentively. She shouted "Hello", several times, but got no response. "Curious thing!" she The Doctor and Mrs. Gilson were just said to herself as she went upstairs. driving away as the sisters came. "Goodbye", called the Doctor. "We'll leave you to manage things. The cook and maid are away. Please answer the 'phone. Ours is one long ring. Tell them I'll return tomorrow." "All right, Doctor, we'll see to things", said Tildy, as they drove away. "Now, ain't this nice"! exclaimed the sisters, again and again, as they walked about the spacious rooms. "Abbie, let's go upstairs in that front sittin' room and sit and sew. How we've wanted an upstairs. We'll jest pretend it's our own." And upstairs they went with their sewing material, to the delightful front sitting-room overlooking the street. "Now, ain't this nice"! said Abbie, as she rocked back and forth and sewed. "Hearken!" said Tildy. "I think that's the telephone." "Did it give one long ring?" asked Abbie. Sounded so to me." "Think so. Tildy left her sewing and went down to the 'phone. "Hello! what's wanted?" asked she. "Is this Dobson's residence?" said a voice. "No 'taint", answered Tildy, and she hung up the receiver and went upstairs. "What did they want of the Doctor?" "Why it warn't him they wanted at all, but some other folks." "Well, I declare!" replied Abbie. A few minutes later, "ding a ling-inging-ing" sounded the 'phone. "There 'tis again", said Abbie. "I'll go this time", and downstairs she went, They were sewing merrily when “ding-a ling-ing-ing-ing-ing" sounded again. "How many rings was that?" asked Tildy. "Two long or two short?" "Deed if I know", replied Abbie. "I've a good notion not to go down", said Tildy. "Oh one of us better go. We told Doctor we'd answer the pesky thing. I didn't suppose they were such a bother!" and Abbie descended the stairs. "No, Doctor will not be home until morning", she answered, and went upstairs.. She was no sooner seated, than "dinga-ling-ing-ing-ing" was heard. "I'll go, this time", said Tildy. Her hearing was not so keen as it once was, and she couldn't make out the name. Would she please tell the Doctor to call the moment he arrived-at-and she couldn't make out the name. Where was the Doctor to call? In distress she called Abbie to help her, and glancing toward the stairs she saw her descending, with all their sewing-material. "No use to stay up there", said she: and by the time she reached the 'phone, the line was rung off. “Dear, oh dear", wailed Tildy. "What'll I do? I couldn't make out where the Doctor is to go." "Never mind", said Abbie. "Let 'em get another doctor." "Ain't it 'bout time we had our tea?" "Yes 'tis. I begin to feel as if I needed somethin' after marchin' up and down them stairs, and there's nuthin' like a drink of hot tea", replied Abbie, and together they went to the kitchen. TESTING MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Abbie turned the faucet to draw water to make tea. "Gurgle-gurgle-sh-s-" sounded the faucet, but no water. "Come here, Tildy, whatever does ail the thing?" "Like as not you hain't turned it right", remarked Tildy, as she turned it both ways, and heard only "gurgle-gurgle-sh-sh-s-s." "Oh well! somethin's got wrong with the critter." "I jest wish I had a good pail of water from our spring. I'm that thirsty, and to go without my tea-" and there were tears in Abbie's eyes. "I don't feel hungry", said Tildy, "but we can have some bread and milk.” A half hour later and it began to grow dark, and Tildy turned on the electric. lights. "Ain't this nice?" she said, as she sat down to sew: but Abbie made no reply. "Pears to me it's rainin'", said Tildy, as she went to the door and looked out. "My! what a dark night. So glad we don't have to be out in it." "I'm glad too", said Abbie as she gazed out of a window at the pelting 103 "Let's go over there and ask 'em to lend us a lamp of some kind. We've got to git to bed somehow", said Tildy. The two old ladies groped their way out and across the street in the wind and rain and procured a little lamp. They had no sooner got nicely settled in bed, when "ding-a-ling-ing-ing-ing", sounded the 'phone. "There goes that pesky thing agin", said Tildy. "Here now, don't you go to swarin' So. 'Twas only yesterday you was a wantin' a telephone in and electric lights. Said the telephone would be sights of comp'ny. Well 'tis company. That's so." A few minutes later, shivering with cold, Tildy climbed back into bed. About an hour later, a rushing sound awoke Tildy. "Abbie, wake up! What is that noise? It comes from the kitchen." The sound continued, and the old ladies crawled out of bed, hurried into their shoes and in their night clothes went to the kitchen, where they discovered that the water had come on and had overflowed the sink and was deluging the kitchen floor. "Mercy! mercy! what'll we do?" screamed Abbie, while Tildy made her way to the faucet and finally got it shut off. About an hour later two very shivery old ladies went back to bed. "I've about made up my mind about this modern improvement question", said Tildy, with a considerable warmth. "I think they are well enough for young folks who can chase around after them, but for oid folks like us, we'd better let well enough alone." And they fell asleep with the telephone ringing in their ears. |