Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1875-12-09
Thasksgivinijs; In Daubury.

<sCns-
1t is just as necessary to have poul-
try for a Thanksgiving dinner a. it is
10 have light. a Danbury couple
named Brigham were going to have
poultry for their dinner. Mr.. Brigham
said TO his wife the day before the
event:
~ saw some splendid chickens in
front Of Merrilrs store to-day, and /
guess I'll get one of them this alter
noon for tomorrow"
~ am going to tend to Mat myself" :"
said Mrs. Brigham quickly.
'But l can get it just as well; Pm
going right by there"
"Ldon't want you to get it," she as
serted. "When ] eat chicken l want
something i can put my teeth in"
And hard look came to her face.
He colored up at once.
"What do you mean by that?
"Just what / sayn she exclaimed,
setting her teeth together.
''DO you mean to say don't kno "
how to pick out chicken ?" he angrily
demanded.
81 do"
"Well, 1 can just tell you, Mary Ann
Brigham, that 1 know more about
chickens in one minute than you could
yer find out in lifetime. And, furth-
ermore, am going to buy that chi ken
if one is bought at all in the house" I"
And he struck the table with his fist.
"And Pll tell you John Joyce Brig
ham," she cried, THAT you don't know
any more how to pick out good chick
en- than an unweaned mudturtle; and
if you bring a chicken in this house it
will 90 out again quicker'n il come in.
And you can put that in your pipe an
uOke it as soon as you want to-"
"Whose house is this, l want to
know ?" he fiercely demanded.
She frankly replied at once.
al suppose it belongs to a flat-bead
idiot with wart on his nose, but a
woman who knows a spring chicken
| from a hump-back camel Is running
the establishment, and as long as she
does he can't bring no patent-leather
hens here to be cooked"
you'll see what I'll do" he yelled,
and he pulled his coat on and jammed
his cap on his head with the fore-piece
over his left ear. e-
"You bring a chicken home il you
think best, Mister Brigham" she re-
piled.
"You see if DON'T" he growled as
he passed out and slammed the door
behind him.
That evening there was a nice, fine
chicken in the pantry, but he didn't
bring his. Perhaps he forgot to get his.
Dinner came the next day. Mr..
Brigham t,ok his seat at the table, as
usual, but it was evident that he in
tended mischief. Mrs. Brigham filled
plate with chicken, mashed potatoes
and boiled onions. 1t was tempting
dish, emitting a delicious aroma. She
PASSED it to Mr.. Brigham. He did not
look toward ii.
Brigham, said she, "here's your
plate"
81 don't want any chicken" he said,
looking nervously around the room.
"AIe you going to eat that chicken %
she demanded in voice of low in
tensity.
mo / ain't-Whooh ouch ooh ~
! She haG sprung to her feet in flash,
reaching over the table, caught him by
| the hair and had his face burrowing in
the dish of hot onions. 1t was done sc
quick that he had no time to save him
self, and barely time to give utterance
| to the agoniZing exclamation which
followed upon his declaration.
"Are you going to eat that chicken?''
she hOarsely demanded.
"Lemme up," he screamed.
She raised his head from the dish and
jammed it on the table.
John Joyce Brigham" she Kissed
between her teeth, "this is a day set
apart by the nation for thanksgiving
and praise. got that chicken to cele.
brate this day and | amt going to have
my gratitude and devotion upset by
such runt as you are. Now, want
to know if you are going to eat that
chicken like Christian, or are you GO
ing to cut up like a rantankerOus
heathen? Answer me at once or Pll
jam your old skull into jelly.
"I-I'll eat it," he moaned.
Then she let him up and he took his
plate, and one Thanksgiving meal, at
least, passed off fharmoniOusly.