The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1875-12-02
Thanksgiving In Danbury,

1t is just as necessary to have poultry for
Thanksgiving dinner as it is to 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:
Il saw some splendid chickens in front of
Merrilps store to-day aud guess I'll get one
of them this afternoon for to- morrow"
u am going to tend TO that myself" said
Mrs. Brigham quickly.
by there.
81 don't want you to get it," she asserted.
when l eat chicken | want something l can
put my teeth in." And hard look came to her
face.
He co'ored up at once.
What do you mean by that?"
inst what l say" she explained, setting
her teeth together.
"Do you mean to say don't know how to
pick out chicken?' he angriIy demanded.
81 do"
swell, 1 can just tell you, Mary Ann Brig
ham, that know more about chickens in one
minute than you could ever find out in life
time. And, furthermore, am going to buy
that chicken, if one is bought at all in this
house," And he struck the table with his fist
"And 1 tell you, John Joyce Brigham" she
cried, that you don't know any more how to
pick out god chicken than an unweaned
mud-turtle; and if you bring chicken in this
house it will go ont again quicker'n it
COuo lu ktuu yOu eau pun tudt Ill your pipe
an smoke it as soon as you want to"
"Whoss house is this, want TO know eh?'
fiercely demanded.
She frankly replied at once:
Il suppose it belongs to fiat-head idiot with
a wart on his nose but a woman who knows a
spring chicken from a hump p.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" be yelled, and he
pulled his coat on and japamed his cap on his
head with the fore-piece over his left ear.
"You bring a chicken here if you think best,
Mister Brigham" che replied
''You seeif L DON'T" be grow.ed as he passed
sut and slammed the door behind him.
That evening there was nice, fine chicken
in the pantry, but he didn't bring it. Perhaps
he forgot to get his.
Dinner came the next day. Mr.. Brigham
took his seat al the table, as usual but 1t was
evident that he intended mischief. Mrs Brig
ham filled plate with chicken, mashed pota-
toes, and boiled Onions 1t was a tempting
dish, emitting delicious aroma. She passed
it to Mr.. Brigham. He did not look towards 1t.
Brigham said she, heres your plate
81 don't want any chicken" he said, looking
nervously around the room.
"Are you going to eat that chicken?" she de-
manded in a voice of low intensity.
mo, ain't-Wooh! ouch oohp'
She had sprung to her feet in flash, reached
over the table, caught him by the hair, and
bad his face burIowing in a dish of hot onions.
1t was done so quickly that he had no time to
save himself, and barely time to give utterance
to the agonizing EXPLANATIONS which followed
upon his declaration.
"Are you going to eat that chicken?" she
h0arsely demanded
'Lemme up!' he screamed.
She raised his head from the dish and
jammed it on the table.
John Joyce Brigham" she hissed between
her set teeth. "ths is a day set apart by the
nation for Thanksgiving and praise, j got that
chicken to celebrate this day and amt going
TO have my gratitude and devotion upset by
snch runt as you are. Now, 1 want TO know
if you are going to cut up like rantankerous
heather? Answer me at once, or I'll 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 harmOniOusly.