The Canton advocate. [volume] (Canton, D.T. [S.D.]) 1877-1897, 1881-06-30
THE MINISTER'S STORY.
"Look here. Sally "

from her hands, casting meanwhile COM
placent eye over the well filled kitchen ia
bic, with its generous array Of unbaked
pies and cakes, the plump turkey stuffed
and trussed ready for the morrow's baking,
and the big chicken-pie, to which her ting-
ers had put the finishing touches, as she
repeated rather more decidedly: .
'Look here, Sally! There's enough
chicken left, with the giblets-that never
put in my own pie, because the deacon
don't relish center make Thanksgiving
pie for the minister's folks. Twon't need
ter be very large" she added, in reply to
Sally's doubtful look. "Only the minister
and his wife-and you can bake 1t III that
smallest yaller dish.
"Now, Pm going up stairs ter look over
them rags, an you make 1t an bake 1t
right off SOS can send it over by the dea-
con. He's got ter go out ter the corner this
afternoon, and can take it along as well as
not"
She hustled out of the door, but the next
moment seized, perhaps, with sudden
pang of conjunction, she put her head in
again, to say warningly:
"Be sure you put i'll good parcel of
gravy; that'l keep it from bein' dry, if it's
half giblets."
"Yes'm," answered Sally, briskly; and
catching up the rolling-pin she brought il
down with an emphasis upon lump of
dough upon the moulding board.
As the stairway door closed behind her
mistress, Sally dropped the rolling-pin, and
a look of perplexity crept over her dull
face, making it ten times more stolid than
usual, while she repeated, i'll ludicrous
bewilderment: .... ....
"Giblets! What in all creation, if any
body can tell me, does she mean by them ?
Involuntarily she took step forward
but checked herself as quickly, while q
cunning smile replaced the look Of per
plexity, and she muttered triumphantly:
81 guess amt a-goin' ter confess my
ignorance to the deacon's wife and let hel
have her say, as she always does, tive
terms ter the 'cademy, Sally, and not
know thatn No, ma'am. not while there's
dictionary in the house,"
So, softly creeping into the adjoining
sitting she hastily opened big die,
tionary on the deacons writing desk, and
began her search for the mysterious word
"G-i-b-herc TSP and she read aloud
to herself, with an air of triumph, the fol
lowing definition:
"Those parts OF fowl which are remoy-
cd before cooking-heart, gizzard. liver, etc
"That's it!-heart, gizzard, liver and SC
forth" she repeated joyfully, as she retrac,
ed her steps to the kitchen, and began with
alacrity, to fill, according to directions, the
minister's pie; keeping up meanwhile, a
running fire of comment for her own spec
ial benefit. .... g..
"Six gizzards Well, that is rather
steep, as Dan Weston would say. But
guess the deacOn's wife knows if she don't
faint none Of my business. Six hearts
Thems small, and tuck into the corners
handy Six livers! Seems ter me they
don't fill up much," and she glanced with
a perplexed air, at II pile Of denudcd chick
en- bones that formed her only resource.
'Now, I wonder" with sudden inspira-
ton" what that and so forth means
Here's hearts, gizzards and livers, plenty
of 'em, but no and so FORTH and the pie
amt more than two-thirds full yet. 1t
must mean" and she cast bewildered
look at the half filled pie, "the chickens,
legs. never knew nobody ter put them
in u pie, but that must be what it means,
and they'll just fill up.
No sooner thought than done. In went
three pairs of stout yellow legs upon which
their unfortunate owners had strutted SO
proudly only the day before; on went the
well rolled dough, covering them from
sight, and into the oven went the minister'i
pie, lust as the mistress of the house re-
entered her kitchen, and with an approx
ing glance at the snowy pastry, remarked
encouragingly: .-.
"That pie looks real neat, Sally.
shouldn't wonder if, in time. you came to
be quite cook"
It was Thanksgiving morning, and Miss
Patience Pringle stood at the ministers
back door. TO be sure it was rather early
tor: callers, but Miss Pringle was, as she
often boosted, zone of the kind that never
stood on ceremony Indeed, she didn't
consider it necessary even to knock before
she opened the door, although she was
thoughtful enough in opening it to do so
softly. The minister's wife was just tax
ing from the oven newly warmed chick
en- pie, which she nearly dropped from her
hand, SO startled was she by the sharp,
shrill voice that spoke so close to her:
been to breakfast yet, see. We had ours
half an hour ago l know my mother
used to say that if anybody lost an hour
in the mornin, they might chase it all day,
and not ketch up with it then"
"That's good-lookin' pie-pretty rich
pastry though, for chicken pie. l don't
never put much shortnin' in anything Of
that kind. It's rich enough inside tc
make up. But you're young, an have got
a good many things to learn yet. l run
in to see if you could spare me cup of
yeast mine soured, and the last batch
Of bread l made l had to throw it to thu
hogs"
Certainly" and q roguish smile futter.
ed over the fair face of the minister's wife
at this specimen of her meddlesome neigh.
boris economy. But she had learned a rare
lesson of judicious silence, and taking the
cup that Miss Patience produced from be
meath her shawl, she babe her visitor be
seated while she left the room to get the
desired article.
As her steps died away, Miss Patience
noiselcssly arose from her seat, and ap'
preaching the dresser upon which the pie
stood, peered curiously into the ,lpertures
in the crust, her sharp face expressing ca.
ger curiosity.
"pll bet n ninepence she didn't know
enough ter put crackers in. wish't could
get one look, just to satisfy my own mind, >
she added. And determined to accomplish
her object at all hazards she ran knife
deity around a small portion of the edge
and inserting four inuuisitive fingers, lifted