1754 
‘Prt RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
November 29, 1919 
WOMAN AND HOME 
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It was always called the night of the 
great wind in Bear Valley, and for years 
the inhabitants talked of the terror and 
destruction that travelled in its wake. 
But this is no a story of the great wind 
or even of Bear Valley, but just of two 
lives—bits of flotsam and jetsam drifting 
down to the great unknown, who caught 
and clung and held each other up, and 
struggled on together to love and victory. 
I was a traveling salesman in those days 
and always when I made Bear Valley I 
stopped to see Doc Courtright. One year 
I got to the valley just about Thanks¬ 
giving time, and Doc made me stay over 
to eat turkey with him and Elby, his 
wife. I was pretty tired and lonesome 
and sick of knocking around by myself, 
and the thought of a real Thanksgiving 
dinner in a real home sounded good to me, 
so I stayed. We were sitting in front of 
the fire, waiting for Elby to put the fin¬ 
ishing touches to the Thanksgiving din¬ 
ner, when Doc asked me if I had ever 
heard about the great wind they had had 
in Bear Valley a couple of years before, 
just at Thanksgiving time. Listen, and 
I’ll tell it to you just as he told it to me 
while we sat by the fire waiting for Elby 
to call us to dinner. 
“Beulah Thorpe was a pretty little 
mite, and I loved her as my own, or would 
if she’d let me, for I helped to bring her 
into the world, and when I told poor 
Nancy Thorpe she had a girl baby, she 
just hid her face and cried. 
“ ‘Bob’ll beat me,’ she said, ‘he hates 
girls.’ ” 
“But Bob didn’t beat her. She died 
before he had a chance. He was mad as 
all get out when he found the baby was 
a girl. He was dead drunk, of course, 
but he sobered up a bit when I told him 
Nancy was dead, and for a little while he 
stayed around home and was realy handy 
with the baby. He seemed fond of the 
little thing, though he was awful disap¬ 
pointed at her not being a boy. He’s the 
one that named her Beulah. Said he’d 
always fancied the hymn “Beulah Land” 
and now he supposed Nancy was there, 
but I guess he was thinking about the 
corn and wine. Finally he married Het 
Benson, who’d been keeping house for 
him, and between them that poor little 
thing didn’t stand any show at all. Het 
was so jealous of her that Bob didn’t dare 
be good to her, though he did try for 
awhile, but he got drinking hard again, 
and forgot all about her being his own 
flesh and blood, and treated her worse’n 
he did his dog. 
“When she got big enough she took to 
running off to the woods, and she’d stay 
there the whole day sometimes. She was 
always ragged and barefooted, but the 
prettiest little thing in town just the 
same. Elby and me, we did what we 
could for her. Elby was always calling 
her in and giving her a square meal. It 
didn’t do any good to give her clothes, 
because Het took them away from hex 1 . 
She was shy and sort of wild, and no¬ 
body pretended to understand her. She 
was just like a little gypsy with her wan¬ 
dering ways, and she looked like one too, 
with her big black eyes and black hair. 
“When she got to be seventeen or 
eighteen there wasn’t a girl anywhere 
around that could hold a candle to her 
for looks, but she didn’t have any friends 
’count of being Bob Thorpe’s kid, and 
then she was so queer and wild like. I 
wasn’t surprised one day to hear she’d 
run away for good. Bob was mad, I tell 
you, and went off on a big spree. He 
talked for weeks about the ingratitude 
of children. Kept quoting from the 
Bible about serpents’ teeth and thankless 
children, but God knows he’d never done 
a thing for Beulah except beat her ’til 
she was black and blue. Het was tickled 
to death to get rid of hei\ 
“Elby and I were worried because we 
knew she’d go to the city and get work. 
She’d often threatened to, but we didn’t 
think it was a safe place for her. She 
was too pretty, and she didn’t know any¬ 
thing. We’d never known her to do any¬ 
thing dishonest or to tell a lie, and we 
Best Thanksgiving 
By Esther Forbes 
thought maybe her sense of honor would 
pull her through if it came to a show¬ 
down, but it’s uphill work for a girl like 
that trying to earn her own living in a 
city. We tried to find her, but it didn’t 
do any good, and after awhile we kind of 
gave up thinking she’d ever come back. 
“She’d been gone about three years 
when old Het died and I can’t say any¬ 
body was sorry. I suppose Bob missed 
her some, but Het was an awful scold and 
drank most as much as he did. I thought 
it was a good riddance. Still—Bob was 
all alone with no one to do for him and 
I never saw a lonesomer man. Once I 
asked him if he ever heard from Beulah 
and he snarled out, ‘No, and he never 
wanted to. She was no child of his to 
run off that way.’ I told him plain it 
was his own fault she’d run off and he 
said he knew it but it was none of my 
business. 
“Then came the night of the gi-eat wind. 
It was just before Thanksgiving, and a 
whole lot of folks didn’t have anything left 
to be thankful for when that night was 
over. The wind had been blowing all day, 
but towards night it got worse and then it 
began to rain. No gentle little spatter, 
but torrents of it, till the streets were 
regular rivers and all the electric light 
wires were down. Bob Thorpe had 
pneumonia and I didn’t think he stood 
much chance. I knew nobody would care 
if he died, and I hated him as much as 
the rest of the town did; still I couldn’t 
let him die like a dog, so I did what I 
could for him. About ten o’clock that 
night I thought I’d go down and see how 
he was fixed. I didn’t feel easy about 
him. He was too sick to be there all 
alone, but thei'e wasn’t a soul in Bear 
Valley to take care of him. I had a time 
getting down to his cottage. The wind 
most took me off my feet and the rain 
soaked me clear through, but when I saw 
Bob I forgot all about the storm and set 
myself to saving his life if it was a human 
possibility. 
“All of a sudden I heard the door open 
and thei-e stood Beulah. I swear I 
thought she was a ghost driven inside 
by the raging wind. She was dripping 
wet and she had lost her hat. Her short, 
curly, black hair was plastei-ed tight to 
her head and her eyes looked big and 
black. 
“ ‘I’ll take care of pap,’ she said. ‘Some¬ 
way I knew he needed me to-niglit.’ 
“Well, I didn’t know how she knew it. 
I supose it was one of them women’s in¬ 
tuitions you hear about but I didn’t ask 
her any questions. There was too much 
to be done and we could talk after awhile. 
When she had done everything I told her 
to and there wasn’t anything more to do 
except just wait, she sat down by the side 
of Bob’s bed and held tight to his hand. 
He didn’t know her but I think he sort 
of sensed she was there, for he began to 
talk about her, swearing and cursing till 
my blood ran cold. But Beulah never 
said a word. She just sat there by the 
side of the bed and never left him for a 
minute. It isn’t an easy thing either to 
sit by a dying man and hear him curse 
himself into etex-nity. 
“ ‘You don’t need to stay, Doc,’ she 
said once, ‘pap and I’ll fight this out to¬ 
gether and we’ll win.’ But of course I 
wouldn’t leave her and she seemed real 
kind of grateful to have me stay. I took 
a good long look at her as she sat there 
beside Bob and I could see she had 
changed considerable. She was just as 
pretty, but the city or something had 
softened her and rubbed off the rough 
edges. It was her eyes that had changed 
the most. They’d always been so bright 
and sparkling, but now they were so sad. 
I’ve never seen anything 6adder than.that 
girl’s great black eyes. I knew when I 
looked at them life hadn’t been very kind 
to her. 
“The wind and rain kept up all night. 
It thundered and lightened and a tree in 
Bob’s yard went over with a terrific 
crash. The roof leaked, and I stumbled 
around setting out pots and pans to catch 
the drips. The roof of a neighbor’s 
house was ripped off, but the good Lord 
himself must have been watching over 
us, for we got through safely. I could 
see Bob was slipping fast and I told 
Beulah so. 
“ ‘Doc,” she said, ‘I know it doesn’t 
make any difference to you whether he 
lives or dies, but it makes all the differ¬ 
ence in the world to me. and I’m not 
going to let him die. He’s going to get 
well and live as a decent man should. 
It’s my fault he didn’t do it before. Do 
you think I’m going to let him die before 
I’ve made it up to him?’ 
“I didn’t try to reason with her. She 
hadn’t had anything to do with the wav 
he lived, but there was no use in talking 
to her then about that All of a sudden 
she began to talk to Bob, soft and quiet 
like, with her big sad eyes fixed on his 
face 
“ ‘Pap,’ she said, ‘you’re going to get 
well for me, for Beulah I’ve come home 
to take care of you Don’t you hear me, 
pap? I’m going to stay with you and 
make you happy and comfortable!’ 
“He muttered something and she bent 
closer to him 
“ ‘It’s no good, Bexilah, I’m goin’ fast 
’Taint no use. You’re a good girl to 
come back, but I ain’t worth it.’ 
“ ‘Pap,’ she says awful solemn, ‘you’ve 
got to get well and I’ll tell you why. 
There’s a little boy baby Just waitin’ to 
call you grand-dad, and he needs you 
worse’n I do because his own dad’s gone.' 
“I noticed then for the first time that 
die wore a wedding ring and I knew 
what it was that had made her so gentle 
and loving like. 
“ ‘Your baby, Beulah?’ says Bob, ‘a- 
waitin’ to call me grand-dad, and you said 
a boy?’ 
“ ‘Yes, pap, a little boy. He’s just 
learning to walk and talk, and he needs 
you, pap, so much, to teach him lots of 
things, and I need you, pap, to help me 
bring him up.' 
“ ‘Beulah,’ said Bob, ‘I got to get well, 
don’t leave—we’ll fight together for the 
baby!’ 
“I couldn’t imagine Bob Thorpe bring¬ 
ing up any little innocent kid, but I sup¬ 
posed Beulah was just humoring him, 
and of course I didn’t say anything. 
“It was ’most morning, and he fell 
asleep then. I knew sleep would help 
him the most of anything and it began 
to look as if he might pull through. 
Beulah sat thei’e beside him holding his 
hand tight and I puttered around among 
all them pots and pans and made her 
coffee, for she was near tuckered out. 
The rain stopped and the wind let up a 
little. I was that thankful when I saw 
the first rays of the sun. Things always 
look better in the morning. After awhile 
Bob roused up a little. 
“ ‘What day is it?’ he asked. 
“ ‘Why, pap,’ says Beulah, ‘it’s Thanks¬ 
giving Day, and you and I have got each 
other and the baby to be thankful for.’ 
“It took a long time for Bob to get 
well, and Beulah stayed right with him all 
the time. He couldn’t bear to have her 
out of his sight. When he was sitting up 
and feeling some better, she sent for the 
baby, and a brighter, nicer, little kid I 
never saw. He was about a year old then, 
just beginning to walk a little and say a 
few words. Bob was awful proud of him, 
and I thought he’d die with joy when the 
baby leanied to say gi-and-dad The kid 
was hanging ai-ound him all the time, 
and it made a man of Bob. I don’t think 
he ever drank another drop. He got his 
old job back, and he makes good money. 
The three of them still live down there 
in Bob’s cottage and there ain’t a happier 
family in the whole valley, except some¬ 
times I think Beulah ain’t so very happy. 
She’s got all kinds of notions about, her 
husband, and she worries about him a lot, 
thinks she’s ruined his life and all kinds 
of things.” 
“What about her husband?” I asked. 
“A girl like that ought to have the best 
man in the world.” 
“Well, she didn’t get him,” said Doc. 
“But I’ll tell you all I know about him.” 
“I couldn’t understand for a long time 
why she’d come back, but one day she 
told me. It seems she’d gone to the city 
and got work and kept straight as a 
string. After about a year she mairied 
(Continued on page 175S) 
