OCR Text |
Show j THE REUNION j ' A Story of a Thanks- giving in a Tourist ; ! Car . "" " ; By MINNIE E. OLIPHANT. ; the back, and that she tucked her scolding locks up every few minutes with a slender, rlngless hand. And these were to form our family party. While I was studying the people, Genevieve was taking an Inventory of our supplies. "Go on with your invitations," I advised, ad-vised, "and, if they are accepted, I will look after the table." She stepped back down the aisle and stood with her hand on the seat in front of our Jewish "friend to be." "I beg your pardon," she began, "but I want to invite jou to come to our-Thanksgiving our-Thanksgiving dinner, and to furnish your share of it." "Thank you," he looked up and smiled, as he lifted his hat. "but where is your dinner to be?" "Down there where my sister Is sitting." sit-ting." She nodded her head in my direction. di-rection. "We are going to have a family fam-ily reunion." "Where Is jour family?" His smile broadened. "All in this coach who will come." Here the young man in the sweater turned round, and she addressed him. "Will you come, too? And ?" "With pleasure, if I can be of any assistance." "You can assist by furnishing something some-thing toward the dinner." He pushed hi hand down Into his pocket. "I have a piece of chocolate and two sticks of chewing gum, which are at your disposal." The frank smile on the young man's face revealed no tendency toward freshness, but the older man, not being able to see his face feared that he was inclined to make sport of my sister. Therefore, he leaned forward and said: "There is a diner on, and I think we could go In " "No, no," interrupted Genevieve; "we don't want to go into the diner. We want a 'make believe' family reunion re-union here in our 'private' car." Then turning to the young man, "Chocolate and chewing gum are acceptable, If they are the best you have." The man with the children had been down to the end of the car. giving each of them a drink, and returned to his seat Just as Genevieve was ready to put the matter before him. "We are to have a family reunion, she began, but seeing a shadow pass over his face, hastened to add: "This is Thanksgiving, and we are all away from home, bo my sister and I decided to play that you, and everybody else In this car, belong to our family, and to invite you home to our section, for a Thanksgiving dinner." He saw what she meant, and the baby reached out toward her, as If it understood, too. Genevieve took the little one in her arms. "You see that the baby is willing, and a little child should lead you." "Oh, of course, we will be glad to accept your kind invitation. If my children won't disturb the party." "No, Indeed," she assured him, "we need children to make a Thanksgiving dinner complete," and, with the baby In her arms, she walked down to the golden-haired lady. "Will you join us in our dinner party?" "Thank you," returned the girl, "but I have my dinner with me." "Very good! We want you to put your dinner In with ours, and from the size of your basket, I should imagine you have more than all the rest of us pot together." "But I am going to Chicago," the young lady protested, "and I must make my lunch do for all the way." "Oh, I see, you are afraid we will eat too much of It." She laughed, "sitting "sit-ting down beside the girl, and still holding the baby In her arms. "If you will eat with U6, you won't need to open' your basket. It Is not your-food we want, but you." The girl still hesitated. "My mother moth-er told me not to get acquainted with people 'on the train, for fear something some-thing might happen, because I have never been out of California before, and she is afraid for me to take such a long trip alone." 1 "Are you afraid of me and this baby?" asked Genevieve. "Oh, no, I'm not afraid of ladies, but mustn't 6peak to gentlemen, unless un-less I am introduced to them." "Wrell, my dear girl, we won't enjoy our dinner party Just behind you here, knowing that you are eating all alone." The young man In the sweater told of his last Thanksgiving in Alaska, and our Jewish "relative" brought out the best Jokes ho had in stock. We laughed in the proper places, and asked for more. Then we agreed to name over some of the things we were glad about. I saw the young man In the sweater give the golden-haired girl a look that made me wonder if he had noticed hei dainty appetite and silence, or whether wheth-er he was glad to have her present at our reunion. "I am getting back to Chicago," he said, "to attend my sister's sis-ter's wedding, and I suppose that 1 ought to add that I am thankful I am going to have a new brother nexl week." "I'm going to a wedding, too." The golden-haired girl had forgotten that she was not to speak to a gentleman without an Introduction. But she remembered re-membered in time to lean round behind be-hind me. "Whose?" In coming to her rescue I had forgotten that no questions were to be asked. "My brother's," she replied, somewhere some-where back of my shoulder. "Perhaps her brother Is to marry my sister." The young man had heard her answer. "She is to marry a California Cali-fornia chap that I have never seen. 1 I barely know that his name Is Harmon." Har-mon." "Will Harmon?" Again the girl was startled out of her corner. "My brother broth-er Will is to marry Miss Jenkins." "Sure enough!" The young man reached across me. "Shake hands, for we are almost relatives." Genevieve rose with as much dig uity as she could command under the circumstances. "Miss Harmon, allow me to introduce to you Mr. Jenkins." Our dinner was over, as everything eatable was gone. The porter carried the cups and saucers back to the dining din-ing car, and cleared away the paper sacks and crumbs. The golden-haired girl sat alone no more on that train, and the young man with the sweater read no more magazines. maga-zines. They may have been talking about the coming wedding, but as we were about to leave the train at Salt Lake City, our Israelite "relative" said over the back of our seat. "There may be more than one wedding." wed-ding." "That Is the romance of our Thanksgiving Thanks-giving dinner," suggested the father of the children, whose baby was at last asleep, and he had time to enter into a conversation. "Now, her mother can't blame us," put In Genevieve, "for they would have met in a few days, anvwav." Genevieve and I were riding in a tourist car, headed away from Los Ar-geles, Ar-geles, and slowly creeping across Death valley. Our thoughts were with the folks at home, who were getting ready for the Thanksgiving dinner, but we were talking of other things. Words are slow unless thoughts are producing produc-ing them, and, therefore, the conversation conver-sation lagged. Finally Genevieve turned to me with the smile she always wore when a good plain plan had Just struck her. "Let's make believe," she suggested suggest-ed 'that the passengers in this coach are all relatives, and let's have a family fam-ily reunion and Thanksgiving din- n?"How can we?" I asked. .-Hi go around and tell them that .. V Thankselvlng, and we are all this is rhan?8f''re mvlted to our relations and they are ZyZX furnutheir own share of the dinner." our ''relfsou;S;r Va8 a young JuSt bauh a fretful baby, and little man with a ueu sQ three-year-old Bi". awkward. tIrGd' KTn iTattzra him tell with the children, i u gtrlped the young man alsle that sweater, and s t r j t uk. ho had Just lost bls ; ife a grand. tag the children back n m0ther 4 iund in his seethe see-the sweater loliea a a mag. tion, dividing bis ntin.e et azine. the Lg ack Gf him desertS who talked 10 Bat a mldd e-agea j thjng In par-no par-no one, aDd.bekehdad forgotten where ticular, as if he ug m R young he was. Ju u about her was |