West Grey Digital Newspapers

Durham Review (1897), 3 Nov 1921, p. 2

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1 again Mrs. RKobb‘s troubles stood beâ€" fere her. Yot it was not so dark as # had been in her sad heart. She stiil aat by the window, hoping now in spite of herself, instead of fearing, and a curious feeling of nearnoss and expectancy made her feel not so much ago now. 1 always thought if C’“ sick or anything I should have a good home for him to come to. There‘s poor Ezra Blake, the deaf ene, tooâ€"he won‘t have any place to "There was Johnny Harris." said Mary Ann Robb softly. "He was a soldier‘s son. _ Left an orphan and distressed. Old John Mander scolded, but I couldn‘t see the psor boy in want. I kept him that year after he got hburt, spite o‘ what anybody said, an‘ he he‘ped me what little he could. Me said 1 was the only mothes ho‘d ever had. ‘I‘m going out West. Mothâ€" er Robb,‘ says he. ‘I shan‘t come back Aill I get rich,‘ an‘ then he‘d look at me an‘ laugh, so pleasant and boyish.} "He wasn‘t one that liked to write. I don‘t think he was doin‘ very welll when I mâ€"th_crg, it‘s most four One lovely gleam shot swift as an arrow and brighterned a far cold hillâ€" side where it fell, and at the same moment a sudden gleam of hope brightened the winter landscape of her heart. It was just at sunset, andi as she looked out hopelessly across the gray fields there was a sudden gleam of light far away on the low hills beâ€" yond; the clouds opened in the west and let the sunshine throug)}. and not suffer the pain of homerle;ar ness and dependence! elms, and waited now like a spider for his poor prey. He often reproachâ€" ed her for being too generous to worthless people in the past and comâ€" ing to be a charge to others now. Oh, If she could only die in her own house vanced some money wpon it in her extremity and pretended that there was still a debt, after he cleared her woed lot to pay himself back. feast, but there was nobody coming with gifts in hand. Once she had been full of love for such days, whether at home or abroad, but something chilled her very heart now. Her nearest neighbor had been foreâ€" most of those who wished Wer to go to the town farm, and he had said more than once that it was the only sensible thing. But John Mander was waling impatiently to get her tiny farm into his own hands; hs had adâ€" He would i)lt;w over the fi;;r;avwes in the ficld corner and fell the great It seemed to her as if before this, in 1ll the troubles that she bad known and carried, there had always been some hope to hold; as if she kad never tooked poverty full in the face and seen its cold and pitiless look before. She looked anxiously down the road, with a horrible shrinking and dread at the thought of being asked, out of pity, to join in some Thanksgiving Some one has said that anniversarâ€" es are days to murke other people barpy in, Lbut sometimes when they come they seem to be full of shadows, aiml the power of giving joy to others, that inalienable right which ought to lighien the saddest heart, the most indifferent sympathy, sometimes even this seems to be withdrawn. So poor Mary Ann Robb sat at her window on the afternoon before Thanksgiving and felt herself poor and sorrowful, indeed. Across the frozen road she looked eastward over a great stretch of cold meadowland, brown and wincuwept and crossed by tey ditches. At this terrible suggestion her brave beart seemed to stand still. The people whom she cared for most hapâ€" pered to be poor, and she coull no ‘cnger go into their households to make kersc!? of use. The very elms overhead seemed to #«y "Oh, ro!" as they groaned in the late autumn winds, and there was somethingy appealing even to the «trange passerby in the look of the little gray house, with Mrs. Robb‘s pa‘e, wortled face at the window. «& few neighbors, and Mrs. Robb had bettcr #o to the poorhouse before winâ€" ter onl be done with it. For a while she managed to get on, but at last it began to be whispered about that thers was no use for anyâ€" ame to be so proud; it was easier for the whole town to care for her than There had been a time, 41:" she! _A dead limb of one of the old trees was left alone, when Mrs. Robb could had fallen that autumn, and. poor fireâ€" help thoce who were poorer than her-fwocd as it might be, it was Mrs. Robb‘s self. She was strong enough no: only; own, and she had burnt it most to do a woman‘s work inside her thankfally; . . . . at least she house, but almost a man‘s work outâ€" could have the luxury of @ fire. side in her piece of garden ground. | She had a feeling that it was her At last sickno«ss and age had come{last night at home, and with strange hand in hand, those two relentiess| recklessness began to fill the stove as enemies of the poor, and tincether|she used to do in better days. ‘ they had wasted ber strength ind| "It‘ll get me good an‘ warm," she substance. She had always been lookâ€"| said, still talking to herself, as lonely| ed upon by her neighbors ss being| people do. "It‘s comin‘ on to storm." imfeperdent, but now she was left,| The snow clicked faster and faster lkmeâ€"footed and lameâ€"handed, with a| against the window, and she sat alone debt to carry and her bare land, and| thinking in the dark. the house illâ€"provisioned to stand the! "There‘s lots of folks I love," she siege of time. lsaid once. "They‘d be sorry I ain‘t} There was a sad heart in the lowâ€" storeyed, dark little house that stood humbly by the roadside under some tall elms. Small as her house was, old Mrs. Robb found it too large for herself alone; she only needed the kitchen and a tiny bedroom that led out of it, and there still remained the best room and a bedroom, with the low garret overhead. The Night Before Thanksgiving By SARAH ORNE JEWETT. ne saw her taste her cup of tea and set it down again with a trembling hand and a look at him. ‘ "No, I wanted to come myself," he wflphghhqomdtryin“ to laugh. "And you‘re going to have I came"; and he told it while she cooked the supper. "No, I wa‘n‘t goin‘ to write no foolish letters," John reâ€" peated. He was afraid he should cry himâ€" self when he found out how bad things Mbeen.u.ndtheymdowntomp-‘ per together, just as they used to do‘ when he was a homeless orphan boy whom nobody o‘se wanted in winter weather while he was crippled and could not work. She could not be kindernowthan-hewu&n,b\n shg_ looked so poor and old! "No, I couldn‘t seem to write letâ€" ters; no use to complain o‘ the worst, an‘ I wanted to tell you the best when The great cheerful fellow hurried about the tiny house, and the little old woman limped after him, forgetâ€" ting everything but hospitality. Had not she a house for John to come to? Were not her old chairs and tables in their places still? And he remâ€" embered everything, and kissed her as they stood before the fire as if she were a girl. . He had found plenty of hard times, but luck had come at last. He had struck luck, and this was the end of & great year. They must cook the beefsteak for supper right away; they must find the pound of tea among all the other bundles; they must get good fires started in both the cold bedrooms. Why, Mother Robb didn‘t seem to be ready for company from out West! He laughed and talked and went out to send away the man to bring a wagonful of wood from John Manâ€" der‘s and came in himself, laden with pieces of the nearest fence to keep the fire going in the mean time. "Why, don‘t cry so, Mother Robb. I thought you‘d have a great laugh if I came and surprised you. Don‘t you remember I always said I should come?" It was John Harris, indeed. The poor soul could say nothing. She felt now as if her heart was going to break with joy. He left her in the rockingâ€"chair and came and went in his old boyish way, bringing in the store of gifts and provisions. It was better than any dream. | "What are you talking about?" said John Harris. "You ain‘t goin‘ to make me feel like a stranger? I‘ve come all the way from Alberta to spend Thanksgivin‘. There‘s all sorts 0‘ things out here in the wagon, an‘ a man to help get ‘em in. | It was not the keeper of the poorâ€" house. The man by the door took one step forward and put his arm around her and kissed her. "Sit down, sir,‘ she said, turning toward ‘him with touching patience. "You‘ll have to give me a little time. If I‘d been notified I wouldn‘t have kept you waitin‘ a minute this stormy night." Yes, and this was the man who kept the poorhouse, and she would go without complaint; they might have given her notice, but she must not fret. ed, stepping back as he came in, and dropping her crutch. "Be I dreamin‘? I was aâ€"dreamin‘ aboutâ€"oh, there, what was I aâ€"sayin‘" ‘Tain‘t true! No! I‘ve made some kind of a misâ€" take." 1 "Come, let me in!" he said gaily. "It‘s a cold night. You didn‘t expect me, did you, Mother Robb?" There was a tall man, not John Mander, who seemed to fill the narâ€" row doorway. "Who‘s there?" she called as she found her crutch and went to the door. She was only conscious of her one great fear. "They‘re come to take me to the poorhouse!" she said, and burst into tears. ‘ It seemed only a moment before there was a loud kocking, and someâ€" body lifted the latch of the door. The fire shone bright through the front of the stove and made a little light in the room, but Mary Ann Robb waked up frightened and bewildered. "There‘s lots of folks I love," she said once. "They‘d be sorry I ain‘t got nobody to come, an‘ no supper the night before Thanksgivin‘. I‘m dreadful glad they don‘t kmow." And she drew a little nearer to the fire and laid her head back drowsily in‘ the ol rockingâ€"chair. k She had a feeling that it was her last night at home, and with strange recklessness began to fill the stove as she used to do in better days. ‘ "Dear me, what is it?" she falterâ€" "I feel just as if somethin‘ wu'eh;d::;::’;l;“‘::‘z’ :;:;.?d M eR goin‘ to happen," she said. . "Poor, F C ty Johnny Harris, perhaps he‘s thinkin‘ The world gerorally gives its adâ€" o‘ me, if he‘s alive." Imiration, nct to the man who does It was dark now out of doors, and what nobody else ever attempts to G>, thare were tiny clicks against the winâ€"‘ but to the man who coes best what dow. It was beginning to B:ow. and multitudes do well.â€"Macaulay. & ked in the risin * # * ind nrernepy s ©I . Po make come ncok of ‘God¥§ crea squares and drawing them up into little fat white bunches. Her cap was jmttlnchlpeofcfrillvymadpop. ped popcorn kernel. 'Bloflutamumntml‘m Art. All the girle and boys sat around the diningâ€"room table. In front of each one was a saucer of snowy popâ€" ped com, a sheet of yellow paper, a afternoon of Thanksgiving at Daorothy Smith‘s house Watch out for ye Indians Polly Popcorn, who looked suspiciâ€" ously like Dorothy Smith to her little guests was wearing a fluffly white frock that appeared to be all popcorn. Really, her mother had made it out of some bigâ€"checked yellowâ€"andâ€"white Everybody‘s invitation came wrapâ€" ped up in a reddishâ€"creenishâ€"brownish crepeâ€"paper cormhusk, and this is what it said: She looked at him again and nodâ€" ded, but she did not even try to speak. There was a good hot supper ready and a happy guest had come; it was the night before Thanksgiving. eo!‘n_fc?_l_'ta«ble long‘s you live, Mother *# % # To make some reok of God‘s creaâ€" tion a little fruitfulier, better, more werthy of God; to make some humen hearts a litt‘s wiser, monfuller, hapâ€" pierâ€"more blessed, less accursed! It is work for a God.â€"Carlyle. # Â¥ :. L Man is his own star; and the soul that ‘_ fate; P i fls Nothing to him falls early or too late Render an honest and a perfect man Oorpma_m@s all light, all irfluence, all Domestic b=ss is worth Gore than all the glory in the world. #. # . # ~ The carpacity to enjoy simple things characterizes all great souls. Pioneer Party at three o‘clock Gems of Thought. Polly Popcorn bids thee se e * z4 sal ‘\ \ \‘Q\\i{ s < § 3 \\E :\§\ ~~.< m ze /99 An Autumn Party x\ \‘-4",/'. + I/'/{ 6 #, u_\.‘\\ ".I////’//., / “._ 2+ ~\\\‘\\\' n ’{. oare €= _4 S\“\‘ athin ,/////4/;////,‘ e sys NBAS §R livingâ€"room, and the Indians and Setâ€" tlers formed in two paralle} files. At the opposite end of the room a paâ€" mdoulsmdw.'m Then each child signed his or her name, and the pictures were carefuilly collected and laid out on the table for an art exhibit, later, of course, to be taken home by the individual artists. Next, aides were chosen for a game called Indianse and settiers. Indians were given heamdbands with gay feathers to wear. Settiers had wideâ€" brimmed brown paper hate. A epace was cleared down the length of th» «x You know what queer shapes corn pops intoâ€"a face, or a head, a cat, a monkey, a spider, an Eskimo‘s hut. The idea of this contest was to select a promising popcorn kernelâ€"one that suggested a pictureâ€"then stick it by means of the library paste to the yellow paper, and with the pencil draw whatever else was needed to complete The eyes of all wait upon Thee, O Lord: and Thou givest them their meat in due season. â€"P3.0145: 15. Deep within every hoart that has not dulled the sense of its inmer viâ€" sion, is the belief that we are one with some great unknown, unseen power; arnd that we are somehow inâ€" sepanably connected with the Infinite Conscioucness. Keep in the sumrshine as much as you can. and imzart some cof the warnh to those srsurd you No matter how â€"unforâ€" tunate your environment, or how unpromising your present condition, if .you cling to your vision and keep struggling with all your might toward its realiâ€" zation, you are mentally building, enlarging y our ideal, increasing the power of your mental magnet to attract your own.â€"O. S. Marden. ikvely tuns. The members of the group were expected to go through the motions of playing the harmonicas again for the next game. Ten chilâ€" dtmwmnbdadtobdoqgou.. popcorn chorua. Each was given an unshelled ear of popcorn, and told to pretend it was a harmonica. The chilâ€" dren arranged themseives in a musiâ€" calâ€"lsoking group and put their popâ€" corn harmonicas to their mouths, whoveupon the phonograph started a The game was really a rival relay ,race. At a signal the first Indian and | the first Settler started for their resâ€" pective goals; the Indian snatched the white doll, the Settler the papoose; then they turned hastily and ran back to their separate teams, handing their pfizestothemxtinlim,who,intum, ;mntodepoaitthepn'zeoinfigwum and cradle, as first found. These runâ€" ners, on returning, touched hands with thenexthlhe,wboflmnhadtom and snatch the prizes in their turn, and so back to the team. Thus the runners alternately stole end returned the papoose and the white baby. The firet team to comâ€" plete the circuit was hailed as the winâ€" ning one, and marched triumphantly n?out tbe‘m to the music of the doll‘s | During the past year the world has been passing through a period of deâ€" 'pression. No country has entirely escaped. Canada, fortunately, has not been greatly affected. True, we have felt a slackness in business, we ,have our unemployment problem, and we are passing through a period of readjustment ofâ€" wages, but withal, we have experienced in only minor degree the depression which is causâ€" ing so much suffering in other counâ€" tries. For this happy positionâ€"we are undoubtedly largely indebted to our abundant and varied natural reâ€" sources. Our people are looking earnestly to the development of these us a means of securing a return of prosperity, of employment, and of plenty. The rich heritage which Naâ€" With the recurrence of our national day of thanksgiving the question naâ€" turaly grisco: What definite recson h2sâ€" Canada to be thankful; what outâ€" standing feature of our nationhood have we that is not common to all covntries; what can we discermn on the horizon of our national life th&tl augurs well for the future of Canada and Canadians? | little white baby doll lay in a Thanksgiving Day, 1921 10 0 DECT T ®* 2C00R02UOT, bilities for untice, were designed to be carsied home as souvenirs from Polly Popoorn/s nice Pioneer Party. ’fimlu“nmwnh"). ‘ WCMQN-W, Each was en animated. popcorn boy, mmvedtobomndeofcjumfin‘- jack with @ big popcorn ball molded over his wooden herd as a foundation. 0 We eroiea ies i zn > P cpliredias i 0_ °08e / ‘"While the earth remaineth seedtime and harvest _ 4 .. shall not cease." name "Indianfied." Thus, Dick Brown had Dickqua, Bessie Perkins had Besâ€" siesoit, Bently Stevens had Bentlyâ€" ques. The wigwams were found to be reâ€" movable, and disclosed tiny pots of L cA ue o _l..l 8 i ~niintds oc ts nds n neJ Ready enough for supper were the children when they were summoned to the dining table. where now, inâ€" stead of the Popcorn Art Exhibit, a row of tiny brown paper wigwams circled the tableâ€"one in front of each place on a plate. Each bore a child‘s _ One child was chosen as turkey, and} had a bell tied around the neck on a} ribbon. The rest of the children vmm! blindfolded, and called the huniers. | Of course, their object wes to catch| the turkey, whose bell jincled ct every step. Once caught, the turkey! became a hunter, and the bhunter who | caught him turned dnto the turliew | The last game before supper was perhaps the jolliest of all. _ It was called a Wild Turkey Hunt: Noâ€"they didn‘t hide paper turkeys ground the room to find. No! TORONTO in time to the real music. The chilâ€" dren entered into the spirit of the fun, and became almost too enthusiâ€" astic in their mimfcry. The rest of the children were cager to try it, so harmonicas were supâ€" plied for everyone. (It is best to let the two groups take turns, as an audience is needed.) Charades followed, under the leadâ€" e_rship of Dorothy‘s mother and big What has Canada to be thankful for? It is obvious that Nature has been very gensrous to Canada, and, with such boundless resources we may with pride in our country look forâ€" ward to the day when the northern half of the Amsrican continent will contain a large and con‘ented populaâ€" tion, a credit to the pioneers who blazed the original trails from coast to coast, and to thore farâ€"sighted statesmen who, in 1867, eponsored the creation of this great Dominion of Canada. The above are but a few of the outstanding features of Osnada‘s naâ€" tural resources. Her agriculture and fisheries, ber tramsportation systems by land and water, and the indomâ€" Woble soirit of her people are assets of invaluable worth. Canada supplies over 87 per cent. of the world‘s requirements of asâ€" bestos. This is largely producei in Quebe:. Of nickel, Ontario‘s output rcpresents 80 per cent. of the world‘s supply. _ Developments are taking place in the nickel «ituation which should make this industry again acâ€" tive at an early date. The total area of land covered by forests in Canada is estimated at beâ€" tween 500 and 600 million acres. Comâ€" mercial timber covers 225.‘ million acres and the remainder js suitab‘s for pulpwood. The Mackenzie oil field is in process of development, but sufficient work has not as yet been performed to prove its value. Oil shales are found in quantity in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. In each province, known deposits must total over a billion tons, with an oil content of fronm 20 to 110 gallons per ton. Canada has the only two coal reâ€" gions on the sea coasts of North Amâ€" erica, in Nova Scotia and British Columbia, while Alberta posscsses coal deposits estimated at 15 per cent. of the world‘s supply. _â€" Canada‘s area is 3,729,665 square miles, of which 3.37 per cent. is water. It equals in area the United States and all her possessions. Canada has more than doubled her population in 28 years. The waterâ€"power energy of Canada is equal to nearly twenty million_‘ horseâ€"power, of which Ontario has 5,â€" 800 000 h.p. and Quebec 6,000,000 h.p. Approximately 1,652,650 h.p. used by central stations for electrical energy is developed from waterâ€"power. Some information supplied by the Natural Resources Intelligence Branch of the Degartment of the Inâ€" terior may be of interest. This branch of the Ottawa Government has been esthblished especially for the purpose of answering enguiries regarding our natural resources. What, however, do our natural reâ€" sources mean to the average Canâ€" adian? â€" How much does he know about them. When challenged to supâ€" port his country‘s chaim to greatness, has he the intimate and close touch: that denotes the student? i waterways, our fisheries, mines and our fertile soil, is yielding up treasure at the call of man to such an extent that we may well say it is from our natural resources we will pay our wu‘ ture has provided, in our forests, A Rurtr Thou crownest fil:;ear with Thy goodness.â€"Ps. 65; :1. us ce a y c 0 e ePE uk within its wieinity to freshen into mxe-.â€"w% Irving. Aaise the song of harvestâ€"home! All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin ; God, our Maker, doth provide For our wants to be supplied : Come to God‘s own temple, come, Raise the song of harvestâ€"home! How easy it is for one benevolent being to diffuse pleasure around him, and how truly is a kind heart a founâ€" tain of ‘M_. m everything within its weinity to freshen into The good seed on the land, But it is fed and watered By God‘s almighty hand ; He sends the snow in winter, The warmth. to swell the grain, The breezes and the sunshine, And soft refreshing rain. All good things around us Are sent from Heaven above, Then thmls the Lord, O thank We plough the fields and sceatter eve and I cam find Greathearts ever;y where! So can you, if you try. the days of grass and agates where agates are found. She always founi the first and the most, While I would be saying. "There @re non>!" she would sather from under my very eyes.> We used to call it luck, We know better now. She could see and her treasure basket never was empty. My treasure basket of something toâ€"beâ€"thankfulâ€"for is always full, I should better ray, some folksâ€"toâ€"beâ€" thankful. It is folks we‘re grateful whoutâ€"not what they have or give. I used to think I was lucky in follks. I know better now. I have a seeing Long ago, my friend Alhambra and I, being very young, had great huntâ€" ings for such treasures as violets in the spring, white moceasin flowers in their season, fourâ€"leavedâ€"clovers a‘ {umdml(vhcd«ueonamrn homestoad. _ He was saddened and embittered by some past happening he never told about. But he was a Greatheart, too. One bitter day, he turned his broncho several miles of the trail that led to his own cabin, because he had "a hunch" a #olitary woman on another lonely homestead, "might be wanting something." Sure enough, he found she was nearly out of water and wood, so until darkne:s fell. he served her meed and then turnâ€" ed the restless horse to face the night windâ€"and called it "nothing." Another of these Greathearts live: on a rented farm. She is a girl with 'two talentsâ€"one for music and anâ€" other for writing. But there‘s a lame sister at home who cannot go to school and there is no one to teach her. So the talented girl devotes herâ€" self to farm living and lets the talents go, keeping silent about it, and only He whom they call the Recording Ange!l, knows her heart or cen really measure how her noble spfrit swe‘‘s the tide of the world‘s thankegiving. It would take me hours just to list all the Greathearts I bave knownâ€" from the pstient mother and friends and teachers who put up with my own careless and indifferent youth, deterâ€" mined to make something of me, out and up, in ever increasing numbers, until when I stop to count them, 1 give up in a flood of gratitude and decide thet the wor‘ld is a heaven‘y place and the omly somgs there a p ncom for sre songs of praisegiving? m:'! thankegiving. They sat down to a‘dinner of poahâ€" ed ceggs and milk "and baked apple: and their cup rah overâ€"filled to the brim with the gratitude of those whose lips they had turned to unexâ€" pected thankegivings. When â€" Thankagiving time came around they said to cach othor, "We must fill the baskets." So there were four baskets filled with: Bason, coffee, sugar, apples, egza cgery, nuts, raisins, werm socksâ€"oh, many wonâ€" derful things, Z2 For all His love they used to talk about a Rich Father, quite as if they knew him, and even when their own cupboard was barcish, they managed, greatheartedly, to slip gifts into czpboards that were very Have you met any of them since you read your blueâ€"andâ€"gold copy of Pilgrim‘s Progress, ever and ever so long ago? I have! I meet them every day. They are the folk who keep the stream of thanksgiving from freezing over, beâ€" tween Thanksgiving Days. May 1 tell you about some of them ? Two of them lived im the heart of a great city. It was winter. Winter in very cold in cities. Colder still, in city homes where dinners are cool. «d and served by charity to little people romes Harvest Hymn. have to be loved and cuddied hm %fp â€"â€" +m (An Appreciation.) ever increasing numbers, I stop to count them, 1 a flood of gratitude and the world is a heaven‘y he omly songs there are e songs of praisegivin? , come, but f1 My: JA

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