Arthur Hamilton, and His Dog
Page 2
CHAPTER II.
THANKSGIVING.
Thanksgiving! dear, delightful Thanksgiving! What a happy sound in allchildish ears! What visions of roast turkeys, plum puddings, and pumpkinpies rise before us at the name! What hosts of rosy cheeks, sparklingeyes, nicely-combed little heads, and bounding feet; what blazing firesand warm parlors; what large stuffed rocking-chairs, withcomfortable-looking grandpapas and grandmamas in them; what huge bundlesof flannel, out of which, plump blue-eyed babies roll; what stuffedhoods and cloaks, from which little boys and girls emerge; and betterthan all, what warm hearts brimming with affection; what sweet songs ofjoyful praise; what untold depths of "sacred and home-felt delight,"belong to thee, dear, glad, Thanksgiving-day!
Let us look in at Mrs. Hamilton's on Thanksgiving eve. Every thing inher little sitting-room is just as clean as it can possibly be; the fireburns brightly, and the blaze goes dancing and leaping merrily up thechimney, diffusing throughout the room an aspect of cheerfulness. Henry,"the student," as John calls him, is at home; for of course it isvacation in his school; and his mother looks with pride on the manlyform and handsome face of this her favorite boy, who has certainly growntaller and handsomer since his last visit at home, in her eyes at least;and who is now entertaining himself by teaching his pet, Emma, (a littlegirl of four,) to repeat the Greek alphabet, and whose funnypronunciation of Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, &c., is received with pealsof laughter by the other children.
"We will make a famous Greek scholar of you yet," said Harry, "whoknows, darling Em, but you may be a great poetess before you die? Butyou won't be a blue stocking, I hope!"
"My stockings are _red_," said the unconscious Emma; "mother don'tmake me _blue_ stockings," sticking out her little feet by way ofconfirming the fact.
Charlie, the baby, as he is called, now almost three years old, hasdonned his new red flannel dress, and white apron, in honor of the day.James is cracking butternuts in one corner, and a well-heaped milk-panis the trophy of his persevering toil. Lucy, the eldest sister, has comehome, and she and Mary are deep in some confidential conversation theopposite side of the room, stopping every now and then to listen, as ifexpecting to hear some pleasant sound. Among them all, the mother moveswith a beaming face and quiet step, completing the arrangements of thetable, which is standing at the backside of the room, covered by a snowycloth, and decorated with the best plates, and china cups and saucers,the relics of more prosperous days.
"Hurra, they've come! they've come!" said James, tossing down hishammer, and bounding over the pan of nuts; "that's our wagon, I know."
All are at the door. 'Tis they! Yes, 'tis John and Arthur, our dearlittle Arthur home again! How they all seize upon and kiss him! How themother holds him to her heart with tearful eyes! Ah, this is joy; suchjoy as can be purchased only by separation and suffering. Who thatlooked now on Arthur's beaming eye, and glowing cheek, could dream thatthey had been clouded by sorrow, or dimmed by tears?
Of all the happy groups that were assembled in our old Commonwealth thatnight, few we think were happier than this. Rover was by no means asilent witness of the joy. He would not leave Arthur's side a moment,and constantly sought to attract his notice. Arthur had been always veryfond of Rover, almost more so than the other children, though he was agreat favorite with all, and Rover had missed him since he went awayalmost as much as Arthur had missed Rover; so it was a joyful re-unionon both sides. He was a large dog, of the Newfoundland breed, withshaggy hair. He had beautiful white spots, and long, silky ears, and wasa very good-natured dog. He would let Charlie get on his back, and ridehim all about the yard; and the boys had made a little sled to whichthey fastened Rover, and Emma, well wrapped up in her hood and cloak,with her woolen mittens on, would have quite long rides after him;sometimes in the yard, and sometimes in the street.
How much the children had to talk about that night; how many stories totell Arthur, and questions to ask him in return! Arthur had decidedbeforehand not to make any complaint, or to say he was unhappy, orhomesick; and indeed in the pleasure of being at home again, he almostforgot he had ever been unhappy. He was to stay till Monday morning, andto him those four days seemed a long period of enjoyment, quite too longto be saddened yet by the thoughts of separation. The night settled downon the inmates of the cottage, and sweet sleep sealed up all eyes; eventhose of the weary mother. The year had brought many trials, and someheavy ones, but there was in spite of them all, much to be thankful for,especially that all her beloved children had been preserved to her, andwere so healthy, so promising, and so likely to prove blessings to her.Ah, how long afterwards did she recall that merry evening, and thosebeaming faces, with a heavy heart!