Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 88, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 February 1919 — A Turkey Dinner [ARTICLE]

A Turkey Dinner

By OTTILIA FRANCES PFEIFFER

(CopTrixbt. IMS. Wwter. Newspaper Uptoa.) "May I come in for a moment?" questioned the gentle looking occupant of two rooms back of those wjtere Mrm Mason and husband and their daughter lived. Many a time the Masons had noticed the poorly dressed, shy and retiring Mrs. Blair, as she was called. Her appearance betokened poverty and the lines of care in her wan face indicated some consuming sorrow. They were warm hearted people, tlie Masons, and 'had never failed to speak pleasantly to their neighbor and wished she was a trifle more friendly. Mrs. Blair worked all day and half the night sewing for a cheap sweat shop. She had a» child, a little boy six years old, who was an invalid. There was something the matter with little Benny's lower limbs tnjd he lay most of llie time on a cot. „ “Come in, and welcome," invited Mrs. Mason heartily and ushered her neighbor into a room as sparsely fnrnlsl*d'as her own. •fl am going to ask a great favor of you, Mrs. Mason,” spoke the timid and hesbating guest. “My poor boy. the doctor, says, can be made well and walk if money can be provided for a long course of treatment. 1 have managed to save up a few dollars, sufficient to take me to my old home in the East. I have determined to go to my father and throw myself and child upon his mercy.” “Surely your own father would not disown his kin I” said Mrs. Mason. “It was my fault, he decided, when I married,” explained Mrs. Blair sadly. At least he said he would never receive us into his home. My husband died. I have struggled on alone for two years. I would not give up the battle even now, only for my child’s sake. I am going to appeal to my father. I cannot take little Benny with me. I have not the money to do so, and he might not be able to stand the strain and fatigue of the journey. Then again my appeal may be in vain,” and Mrs. Blair sighed drearily. "Let us hope for the best, dear,” consoled her great hearted hostess. “Can we help you in any way?’ “I wish to leave little Benny for a week at the most with some one, and I would feel that he was in safe kindly hands should you consent to take, charge of him,” said Mrs. Blair. “I will pay you for your care.”

“Not that. He is welcome to our poor fare, and sure nobody could help loving the dear, afflicted child! Yes, indeed, we will take care of him and glad to show that little kindness to a good woman in trouble.” So it was arranged and the cot was moved into the Mason apartment next morning. Mrs. Blair left a little package with Mrs. Mason. “It Is Benny’s birthday next Saturday,” she said, “and I had promised him a present. Here are only a few poor toys, but I hope it will content him.” It was after his mother was gone that Benny made the coming birthday a constant theme. Somewhere he had got a picture showing a family group at a festive meal. A great turkey was the principal feature. “That’s what I want for my birthday,” the little fellow insisted. “Mamma promised that some day we’d have a turkey and please can’t you get one, even if it’s a tiny fellow, just for this once ?”

“I declare! it’s heartbreaking, that poor little feUow with his one wish,” said honest John Mason to his wife. “But a war time turkey means a fortune and yon must try arid get' it out of his mind.” Mason was a painter and paper hanger and trade was dull. By a strange coincidence the next day his task was decorating a restaurant. Among the papier mache chops and fowls exhibited in the show window were several counterfeit presentments life size, and some of these the proprietor of the place threw aside. It was with brightening eyes and an inspiring plan in IJs ,inind that Mason asked for one of the discarded imita-' tion turkeys. At a distance it was a noble looking specimen, browned to a turn and seeming at bursting point with inside richness. And upon his birthday little Benny on his cot clapped his hands with delight as he viewed on rhe table a perfect copy of the turkey in the picture. One side of the papier mache fowl was turned away from him. It had been cut open, a small roasted chicken inserted, apparently the carving done from The turkey, and little Benny feasted and then lay back content over his first turkey dinner. Mrs. Blair returned and with her was her father, forgiving and eager to„ take to his heart daughter and grandson. He was a man of wealth and when told of the turkey episode he asked to be given the mock fowl, “to remember your grand goodness of heart,” he .told Mason.' “What’s this?” inquired the latter, the day after the Blairs had departed and he opened a heavy package *to bring to light th> counterfeit turkey.

It jingled as he moved it. Its contents poured forth as he turned it around. To the brim it was packed with an opulent stuffing—silver dollars, a reminder of the soulful appreciation of Mrs. Blair’s father of his unselfish care for the littl& crippled boy. '