LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2558, 20 June 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

TWO THANKSGIVINGS. * Dear Eobin—Your letter is received, accusing me of heartleasneaa, and announcing yont possible journey to the Far West. I am all repentonance, dear—l think I have treated you shamefully, and I am sorry for it. I do not know why it ia that a woman takes pleasure la teasing the man she loves. For 1 do love you, dear Robin, tho’ I never told you so before—and I will answer that question you have so often rsked me, in a manner satisfactory to you, If you will oomo back to us. I am to spend Thanksgiving Day with yonr family, and we shall expect you. Your naughty repentant, Alta. Alta Eivera read the note over, blushing a soft rose color as she did so. ‘ I wonder if it is too bold—too unwomanly,' she muted as she sealed and addressed It. ‘lt says things so plainly—but then I have been so tantalising all these years, and Robin has been so tender and faithful and persevering, that I think ha deserves a little frankness from me now. And It will make such a happy Thanksgiving for us all.’ • Hurry up Alta—l'm late starting already,’ called the voice of Farmer Boyd, Robin’s father, at the door. And Alta ran out, pressing the postage stamp down with her little, pink thumb as she went, and handed the letter to Mr Boyd who slipped into the tide pocket of his coat, and chirruped to his horses. ‘ Don’t fail to post it,’ called Alta after him, and he looked back and nodded, and touched the rear horse with the whip and was gone. And Alta went back Into the house, singing in a sweet voice—

“ What made the ball so fine ? Bobln was there— What made the assembly shine ? Robin Adir. ’

She went out into the great kitcheu where three women, one a middle-aged matron, and two young girls, were busily employed at various tasks. One churning, one kneading bread, and one patting away the dishes whioh Alta had helped her to wash.

‘I mast go now,’ she said, 'auntie told me to be sure and come home early this morning, but she knows I never do gee away from here early. It is just the hardest thing In the world to leave this house. It is so Uke home.’

1 Well, you’ll surely come over next week and help us to prepare for Thanksgiving V Mrs Boyd said, ‘O, yes, and auntie too. We'll all turn in, and make the day a grand success.’ Mrs Boyd sighed, *lf Robin would only come,’ she said. ‘ But if he goes West, it will just spoil the day for me.’ And sbe cast a somewhat reproachful look at Alta, Alta blushed and smiled. ' 1 do not think he will go West.' she said, ‘lndeed, lam very sure he will not. He will come home, and we will have the very nicest Thanksgiving this old house ever beheld. By-by.’ And with a light nod and smile Alta took her departure. ‘I wish I knew just how things stood between her£au' Bobxn,’ mused Mrs Boyd as she ladled out her butter Into a tray cf water. ‘ Don’t she ever talk to you girls about him 7’

‘ Not often,’ answered Anna, the elder, Alta’s intimate ‘ chum.’ ‘Never says anything that gives a body any Idea of how matters stand between them, leastways. But she said this morning that Robin should not go West if she could do anything to hinder it.' * And 1 think she wrote to him this morning, too,’ spoke np Jane, the younger girl. ‘ Because, just before she sat down to write, she asked me if Allanville was spelt en or an—said she’d forgotten.’ 4 Well, I do hope everything is all right,’ sighed Mrs Boyd, spatting the butter into round bolls of gold, * for a better girl, or a neater or handler girl never lived than Alta Blvers. And It does seem as If she an’ Robin was born (or each other. And he’s never looked at any other girl since he was oat of frocks but her, unless be has 'since be went to Allanville. And it’s my opinion that the only thing that’s settln’ his mind on the West, is his bein’ sort of discouraged about gettln’ Alta, so many fellows are after her now.’ Alta Rivers was the sweetest girl in all the country aide about the little Massachusetts village of Ferrytown. An orphan since childhood, she had been reared in her uncle’s family, with a house full of noisy boy cousins. She was by nature endowed with grace, and an attractiveness that passed for beauty, and under her aunt’s careful and rigid tuition, she bad become a skilled cook, and an accomplished seamstress. Beside this she sang sweetly, and had learned enough of music to play the organ at the village ohnroh. No wonder then our fair Alt* was the favorite of young and old, and that her hand was sought in marriage by more than one admiring swain. But while Alta was an arrant coquette by nature, her heart was true as steel to her first and only love—her childhood’s playmate and girlhood’s companion, Robin Boyd. He bad been her lover ever since she coaid remember ; and she had alternately smiled upon, and tormented him until be went away to Allanville, a hundred milea distant, to learn telegraphing. He had been gone eight months now, and had visited homo once in the time, and he found Alta so besieged by attentive youths after church and Sunday school that he had little chance to get a word with her, and though she was all sweetness and kindness while he stayed, he went back to Allanville with a very heavy heart. Indeed. Alta was a very delinquent correspondent and it was precious little comfort Robin gained from her letters. And one day, when he had an offer of a better situation If he would go to Wisconsin, he sat down and wrote to Alta.

‘ I am discouraged of ever succeeding in my dearest hopes,’ he wrote, ‘ and I think the farther away I go the better for both of us. You refuse to answer my plea for a formal engagement, yon laugh at my love for you, and I begin to think you are almost heartless. I have loved you well and long, Alta, but there is a limit to patience. I had expected to go home Thanksgiving, and be with yon all again, but if I accept this situation 1 shall go West very soon.’ This is the letter which had caused Alta to write so tender a reply 1 The letter she read again, on her return home that morning and smiled over it, thinking how the writer’s mood wonld change in a few hours, on the receipt of her reply. ‘ It is odd ’ sho mused, ‘how such a little simple thing like me has the power to make miserable or happy, such a great, splendid, elegant follow like Robin.’ The days went by, and it was the week before Thanksgiving. Alta had received no reply to her letter, which disappointed her a little, bat she went over to the Boyds and helped them make ready for the day with a Ight heart. And a thousand times she pictured to herself the meeting between herself and Bobln, and the happy day that woald follow his coming. Sho went over quite early the evening before Thanksgiving. The girls had asked her to come and stay over night with them, as ahe frequently did, and then she would be there to help lay tables and make all necessary pi operations in the morning. Her ancle’s family would come to dinner, boys and all, for her oldest cousin was Anna Boyd’s lover, and thus it was quite like an united family. The train from Allanville arrived at 7 p.m, dally. Alta went over to Boyd’s before

six, arrayed in her most becoming robes Her brown eyes were all agbw, and a rich color bloomed in her cheeki. Robin had not written, and therefore sh< was perfectly confident he was coming or the evening train, and her heart beat faft and high ae she walked up the pathway t) the door he would so soon enter. • What, when the play was o’er, What mode my heart so sore, O ! it was parting from lobort Adair,’ She sang as she opened the side door without rapping, and th'.n tho song di«d on her lips. For there sat Mrs Boyd weeping bitterly, and both the girls looking as if they had just returned from a funeral. ‘Why what is the matter?' cried Alta ‘ What has happened,’ Mrs Poyd continued to w;ep, but Anna answered choking back a sob—- ‘ Robin’s gone West.’ Alta felt as if a cold hand had clutched her heart, ‘Gone West?’ she repeated, ‘ when ?’ ‘He started last night. We have jest received the telegram. He says we will get a letter to-night.’ ‘lt has just mined onr whole Thanksgiving,’ Mra Boyd sobbed, 1 1 wish I could go off by myself and lock the door, and not see a human being all day. That’s how I would like to spend my Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving, indeed, with my only boy whom I have not seen six months being borne farther and farther away where I may never see him again,’ A Ita felt a response In her heart to every word Mrs Boyd uttered, but she wcs too dszed to speak. What did it mean—why had he gone. {To be continued.\