Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1886-11-26


''Peter' meant summon to his meal
Its the KNOWN est .c1etur," ex-
claimed smiling Miss Clorinda who re-
ally sometimes forgot her aches in the
antics OF her pet. Every night Peter
was taken into the kitchen for fear OF
rats or weasels, till at last it was big
enough to leave the coop and persh
on a beam in the wood house at night.
And never chicken grew so fat. 1t
would patter in at every meal, to be
fed out of the sisters hands, and
would t1itup into Miss Clorinda's own
rocker and 60 to sleep on the cushion
after tea, with her full consent and
rotation.
Meantime the squashes prospered.
'Guess you'll have pies enough, !"
laughed Clorinda, whose interest in
the chicken and garden had kept her in
the open air more than she had ever
been in her life before.
'Well if they ripen up good, lean sell
EN- to the tavern. Miss Emerson
she's agoin' to have them railroad
folks, engineers, you know, to board
this winter, and she's bespoke all can
let her hev; and Clorinda, there amt
one among all her Bramys that can
hold acandleto Peter. Ihefted the big
gest on EN- last week, and they want
no ways to be compared with him"
"Do tell! Well, we've cosseted him up
so! He's eet and eet all he could swa1-
Ter, and it would be strange if he didn't
grow some. I don't See why he don't
hav no comb nor spurs. I thought
they always had 'em.'
Land! he amt nothing but a chick"
However, even when summer passed
by, and cool sweet autumn days set in,
when the big squashes lay like golden
spheres on the grass and along by tho
currant bushes, Peter made no show
ofhis proper crest and knightly append
ages. He was fat, lazy, happy; would
nestle in Miss Clorinda's lap like pet
cat, and follow Miss Joe all over the
house, with an attachment so evident
the old lady more than returned it.
But at last November came. The
Governors proclamation was read
from the pulpit; four sQuashes were
stored on the upper pantry shelf;
thirty had been driven off in Mr..
Emerson's wagon to delight the souls
OF hungry railroad workers with
abundant pies through the coming
winter, and in Miss Joe's purse So
the result OF her horticultural labors
lay comfortably stored for some
time OF need.
Monday came; the THANKSGIVING
squash was stewed and strained.
Tuesday came; the spiced currants
were fetched from the cellar and ex-
amined. They were not fermented at
all. At tea time Peter came coaxing
and patterlng about for his sup
per, his eyes bright, and the late-ap-
pearing comb fresh and red. He was
white aud plump and held his head on
one side and peered at them with a.
look of demure fun.
Miss Joe looked at her sister, and
Miss Clorinda looked the other way.
A chicken ought, by all laws OF cook
cry, to be killed and dressed more
than two or three days before it is
cooked; but Stafford custom was con.
tented to slaughter it's animal food
over night. II Peter was to be par
boiled next day, and set away to cool
before encrnsting and baking, he must
be killed and picked tonight. Both
sisters knew it. They had thought
about it. and dreaded it silently for d
week. This was the last minute for
action. Miss Joe looked at Peter
Nesting against Clorinda's gown and
looking up, expectant for a crumb.
II can't do it," said Miss Joe, loud
ly and promptly. II can't and I
won't. Eff you want chicken pie for
Thanksgivin', Clorinda, you can slar.
ter the cretur yourself. So there!"
Miss Clorinda burst into tears.
"Josephy I'd Almost as lieves kill md
eat you! don't care Il cent for no
pie, but set by Peter like my eyes,
and I couldn't no more eat him than
could you, as said afore."
Miss Joe laug but the laugh
quavered. Guess | should be almost
too tough for you to eat, Clorinda;
but you've sot my mind to rest. I've
been a-thinkin' and a-trettin' in Hardly
quite a spell about this matter. I
hated to give up your Thanksgivin'
dreadful, but I couldn't noway see
my way to kill Peter. Wen have to
be thankful on squash pie and spiced
currants'and fish cakes; but I couldn't
be thankful eatin' Peter, not if / had
Fourth o July cold collection along
with him."
mo, nor I nu.her, Joe; bless the
creeter, / couldn't stand it without
him, and l think fish cakes are the
best OF vittles!'
The sisters slept the sleep of con-
tentment and got up in the morning
with a sweet consciousness of impend-
ing evil forever removed.
But where was Peter? He did not
come to breakfast. He was not to be
found anywhere. For an hour they
hunted anxiously when just as Clor-
india was peering under her hand into
the dark corner of the woodshed
where Joe had climbed over the pile to
inspect certain old boxes and barrels,
Peter flew right out into the inspecting
Josepha's face with a loud and exult-
ing, "Cut-cut.cut-cut.cu a-dacut" and
the astounded and confounded WON.
an screamed out
"Clorinda Mills! for the lands sake!
AS sure as you're born, Peters laid
an ege"
This settled the matter. The sisters
had never kept chickens in their lives
before, and had taken it for granted
that Mrs. Emerson would not sell
them hen, and, indeed, it was an
oversight on the part of thegood wom-
an herself. But this unexpected de-
velopnent consoled Clorinda and Joe
for the weakness they had shown
about killing their pet, even for the
solemn feast on Thanksgiving day.
TO have killed q white Brahma pullet
would have been the slaughter Of the
goose with the golden egg over again.