Before long, however, a pungent odor, as of fat on a hot stove, began to
pervade the house. Addison looked up and sniffed. Just then we heard
Theodora race suddenly down the hall stairs, speed to the other door of
the kitchen, then cry out and go flying back upstairs. An instant later
she and Ellen rushed down, with grandmother Ruth hard after them.
Evidently something was going wrong. Addison and I made for the kitchen
door, for we heard grandmother exclaim in tones of deepest indignation,
"O you Halstead! What have you done!"
Halstead had set the old churn on top of the hot stove, placed a chair
close against it, and was standing on the chair, churning with might and
main.
His head, as he plied the dasher, was almost touching the ceiling; his
face was as red as a beet. He had filled the stove with dry wood, and
the bottom of the churn was smoking; the chimes were warping out of
their grooves, and cream was leaking on the stove. The kitchen reeked
with the smoke and odor.
After one horrified glance, grandmother rushed in, snatched the churn
off the stove and bore it to the sink. Her indignation was too great for
"Christian words," as the old lady sometimes expressed it in moments of
great domestic provocation.
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