PARTINGTON PHILOSOPHY.
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Before the railroad company bought and tore down
the Partington mansion, and uprooted and overturned the
old family shrines without regard to their sacredness,—
the Vandals! — turning the good old heart that worshipped
there out upon the world to seek new ties amid new
scenes, it was Mrs. Partington's delight to gather friends
about her at Thanksgiving time, and the time-honored
season passed very happily. Amid the festivities her
benignity would beam with such a radiance, that the red
seed peppers upon the wall looked ruddier in its genial
glow, and the bright tin pans upon the shelf seemed
brimful of sunshine, and smiled out upon all who looked
at them.
There were fine times at the Partington mansion at
Thanksgiving, you may depend. She did n't keep Christmas, —
she was puritanical in her religious notions, and
'tended the Old North meeting-house for a third of a
century, and took pride in saying that she had never been
to church; a nice distinction which we leave the old
folks to make, — Christmas was a church holiday, unsanctioned
by a governor's proclamation, and she would
none of it; she scented in it the garment of the disreputable
Babylonish female, mentioned in the Apocalypse,
and avoided it. But it is Thanksgiving that we are
speaking about now — Well, well, what has all this to
do with patience? — Have patience, darling, and we 'll
tell you an instance of patient resignation under
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disappointment, not surpassed since Newton's dog Diamond
committed an incendiary act, and his master gravely informed
the quadruped that he was not probably aware of
the extent of the damage he had committed; which was
doubtless the fact.
It was the custom with Mrs. P. to shut up a turkey
previous to Thanksgiving, in order that he might be nice
and fat for the generous season. One year the gobbler
had thus been penned, like a sonnet, with reference to
Thanksgiving, and anticipations were indulged of the
“good time coming;” but, alas! the brightest hopes must
fade. The turkey, when looked for, was not to be found.
It had been stolen away! Upon discovering her great
loss, Mrs. P. was for a moment overcome with surprise—
disconcerted; but the sun of her benevolence soon
broke the clouds away, and spread over her features like
new butter upon hot biscuit, and with a smile, warm with
the feeling of her heart, she said — “I hope they will
find it tender! — I guess we can be thankful on pork
and cabbage!”
“Say, ye severest, what would ye have done”
under such circumstances? You would, perhaps, have
raved, and stamped, and swore, and made yourself generally
ridiculous, besides perilling your soul in the excess
of your anger. But Mrs. P. did n't, and there is where
you and she differ. She stood calmly and tranquilly —
a living lesson of philosophical patience under extreme
difficulty. We cite this example that the world may
profit by it.
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Shillaber, B. P. (Benjamin Penhallow), 1814-1890 [1854], Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others of the family. (J. C. Derby, New York) [word count] [eaf677T].
