Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1888-11-28

luOuSu . was " COUuUlu OF EN- some
IN advance"
"Well, we can't always tell. 7 can
cosset one, where I couldn't twenty. 7
can get 1t anyway. Ninepence won't
make or break us as | know of, and if I
do my everlasting best to make it live
an it don't, why there tits; it's a dis
pensation. But guess it'll live"
So Miss Joe proceeded to the wood
shed, where, with the slaves of an old
barrel, broken hoop skirt, nails and a
hammer, she proceeded to construct the
most astonishing hen coop possible.
In one corner an old seidlitz powder
box. relic OF Miss Clorinda's 'bad
swell's," was fastened to the side as
drinking trough, and when the coop
was securely staked down, close to the
back door, nest of hay was made in
one corner, and substantial perch fas-
tened firmly across the whole habita-
ton. Mrs. Emerson proved propitious,
and white Brahma chicken was in
stalled in this mansion about the first Of
May with all due Donors.
1t really put new lie into this small
house to have an object of such daily
interest and care. The chicken was
named at once for the sake of some
"handle to it, as Miss Joe said, and it
very soon learned to know that "Peter"
meant summons to its meals.
''It's the knowin'est cretur," ex-
claimed smiling Miss Clorinda, who
really sometimes forgot her aches in the
antics of lher pet. Every night Peter
was taken into the kitchen for fear of
enough to leave the coop and perch on
beam in the wood-house at night,
And never chicken grew so fat. It
would patter in at every meal, to be
fed out of the sisters hands, and would
Tilt up into Miss Ciorinda's own rocker,
and go to sleep on the cushion after tea,
with her full consent and appreciation.
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, [ can
sell 'em all to the tavern. Miss Emer-
son she's agoin' to have them railroad
folks. engineers, you know. to board
this winter, and she's bespoke all I
can let her hev; and, Clorinda, there
can hold handle to Peter. I hefted
the biggest on 'em 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
swaller and it would be strange if he
didd't grow some. [ don't see why he
don't hev no comb nor spurs. I
thought they always had 'em'
''Laud 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 the
currant bushes, Peter made no show of
his proper crest and knightly append
ages. He was fat, lazy, happy, would
nestle in Miss Clorinda's lap like a pet
cat and follow Miss Joe all over the
house, with an attachment 80 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.. En- erson's wag-
on to delight the souls of hungry rail
road workers with abundant pies
through the coming winter, and in Miss
Joe's purse $6-the result of her horti-
cultural labors-lay comfortably stored
for some time of need.
Monday came; the Thanksgiving
squash was stewed and strained. Tues
DAY came; the spiced currants were
fetched from the cellar and examined.
They were not fermented at all. At tea
time Peter came coaxing and pattering
about for his supper, his eyes bright,
and the late appearing comb fresh and
red. He was white and plump; and
held his head on one side and peered
at them with look of demure fun.
Miss Joe looked at her sister, and
Miss Clorinda looked the other way.
A chicken ought, by all laws of cookery,
to be killed and dressed more than two
Or three days before it rs cooked, but
Stafford custom was contented to slaugh-
ter its animal God over night. If Peter
was to be parboiled next day, and set
away to cool before enerusting or bak-
ing, he must be killed or picked to-
night. Both sisters knew it. They
had thought about it and dreaded It
silently for week. This was the last
minute for action. Miss, Joe looked at
Peter nesting against Clorinda's gown
and looking up, expectant for erumb.
81 can't do it," said Miss Joe, loudly
and promptly. II can't and I won't.
Eff you want chicken pie for Thanks
givin.' Clorinda, you can slaughter the
cretur yourself So there r7
Miss Clorinda burst into tears. "Jos-
ephy, I'd Almost as ieves kill'nd eat
you [ don't care q cent for no pie.
but set by Peter like NV eyes, and
couldn't no more eat him than / could
you, as [ said afore."
Miss Joe laughed, but tine laugh qua
vered. "Guess should be almost too
tough TO eat, Clorinda; but you've sot
my mind to rest. I've been a-thinkin'
and a-frettin' in'ardlv quite spell
about this matter. / hated to give up
your Thanksgivin' dreadful; but I
couldn't noway see nay way to kill
Peter. Well have to- be thankful on
squash pie and spiced currants and fish
cakes; but | couldn't be thankful eatin'
Peter, not if had a Fourth o. July cold
collection along with him."
ono, nor I nuhher, Joe; bless the
ereeter I couldn't star it without
him, and I think fish cakes are the best
of vittels p
The sisters slept the sleep of content
ment, and got up in the morning with a
sweet consciousness Of impending evil
forever removed.
But where was Peter He did not