Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1899-09-12
WHEN LObEL|A DILL
WENT To MEETING.

HLut III HILL lifNs
For reasons of his own the fshman
made his rounds and footed his horn at
Lobelia Dill's brown house Thursday in
stead of Friday morning, one week. 1t
was unprecedented. Such a thing could
not be remembered in the memory of the
oldest inhabitant. Fridays and the nsn-
man were one and inseparable.
Lobelia was making strawberry Jam,
and the rich, seething mass was at Its
most critical point when the faint sound
of the ishman's horn intruded upon her
ear 1t startled her unaccountably. Ga
briefs horn itself could scarcely nave
surprised her more.
For the landr she CRIED that's Bal
Blessop's horn blowin or else I'm losin'
my ear for musicI 'Bial Blessops fish.
horn-and that makes it Friday today!
I've lost whole day clean out OF this
week. / guess I'm losin my faculties, as
sure as I'm Dillp'
The sudden remembrance of a remote,
unfortunate Dill who had lost his facul-
ties came to poor little Lobelia with
crushing force Now and then it had
doomed over her before. She stirred the
strawberry jam nervOusly, striving to
change the subject in her mind.
I've heard O folks losin' day out
that way; but [ declare | never heard of
a DilPs. No, | neverv'
The horns foot merged from faint
sweetness into harsh contiguity. The
fishman drew up at the foot Of the little
Dill lane. Lobelia hurried to the door.
Her thin, fustered voice carried out
''Well, declare. 'Bial Blessop, if you
amt a surprise! No, [ amt comm out
my iam'll burn. You cut me off a
chowder piece O hake, about two pounds.
I'll put plate, with the money on, right
out there by the haycocks. What? Pc
ter Piper? For the land, you needn't
think Peter Piper'd touch it. | guess he
knows manners-besides, ne likes his fish
cooked -
She went back to her jam-kettle in
furry of anxiety. Her thin, straight lit
tie nose quivered with the fear of a burnt
odor, but relaxed to its wonted lines at
the kitchen threshold. Only the heavy,
sweet smell greeted her.
Il wouldn't We made it today if I'd
had my right Senses" Lobelia murmured
THE idea of strawberry jam and fish
chowder the same day! But Peter Piper
ID be dreadful disappointed without his
chOWder. | can have dinner q little mite
later
1t did not occur to her to postpone the
fish dinner a day. There must be sa-
worry, steaming chowder, of course. She
and Peter liked their fish cooked the
same way exactly.
AS long as Lobelia Dill could remem-
ber-and she could remember nearly half
century-there had been fish dinner
Fridays in the little Dill homestead. It
would not be Friday without one. The
fshman was responsible for very great
deal that week.
The next day, early, Lobelia got out
her kneading board and the ingredients
for her weekly loaf of brown bread. She
set her beans to parboiling, and pared the
pie apples. 1t was we'll to get the weekly
cooking cut of the way in good season.
There were always liable to be callers
might come painting up Quinn's hill-poor
Mercy was SO stout!-to get that new
pattern for quilts peter Piper, you
needn't set there washing your face any
more-it's clean enough. You go out and
make yourself useful Lobelia said
briskly, and Peter Piper went out
straightway and caught a mole. He was
always to be depended upon as amenable
to reason, Peter Piper was.
The busy morning hurried by, and
lapped over a little into the afternoon
No callers came, and Lobela took a long.
restful nap on the sofa in the cool, dark
parlor. 1t was nearly night when she
woke up. There was just time to 90
up stairs and lay out her Sabbath-day
clothes on the spareroom bed. Lobela
never liked to take a lamp in there on
account of the crisp muslin curtains:
in books.
Then she wound up the eight-day
clock That always followed the laying
out of the best gown and bonnet and
neat black gloves, as surely as night
comes after day The Dills had ever
been very methodical. way back to the
great-greats. It ran" in the family.
Down stairs the pleasant, steamy odor
from oven and steamer greeted her, and
in the little pantry the row of gold brown
pies did her eyes good. She remem
bered the old rhyme, How pleasant is
Saturday nightn' and repeated it to
Peter Piper as she hustled about, getting
tea. She had a comfortable conscious
ness of having tried all the week to be
good" and it gave an appetizing Zest to
the supper of beans and brown bread.
The next morning Lobelia Dill woke
up with the Sunday calm on her sweet.
plain face.
She allowed herself the usual extra
hour of rest and doing. and then she
and great. yellow-coated Peter Piper had
their breakfast of beans and brown
bread, peacefully.
The old homestead. where Dills had
lived and died for q hundred years, was
on the top of a high hill, and commanded
view of the Lords whole beautiful
creation" Lobelia said gratefully. 1t
was too far from the village to admit
OF the church-bells being heard unless
the wind "set due west" Today is was
due east. and there was flavor of rain
IN the air. Lobelia deemed it prudent to
take an umbrella, and the search for
one delayed her considerably. When at
last she set out on her long walk, she
was in little whirl Of anxiety for fear
she should be late. A Dill be late to
meetingi AS we'll might the Young chicks