Cy Whittaker's Place

It is queer, but Captain Cy himself doesn't remember whether the day was Tuesday or Wednesday. Asaph Tidditt's records ought to settle it, for there was a meeting of the board of selectmen that day, and Asaph has been town clerk in Bayport since the summer before the Baptist meeting house burned. But on the record the date, in Asaph's handwriting, stands “Tuesday, May 10, 189-” and, as it happens, May 10 of that year fell on Wednesday, not Tuesday at all.
Keturah Bangs, who keeps “the perfect boarding house,” says it was Tuesday, because she remembers they had fried cod cheeks and cabbage that day—as they have every Tuesday—and neither Mr. Tidditt nor Bailey Bangs, Keturah's husband, was on hand when the dinner bell rang. Keturah says she is certain it was Tuesday, because she remembers smelling the boiled cabbage as she stood at the side door, looking up the road to see if either Asaph or Bailey was coming. As for Bailey, he says he remembers being late to dinner and his wife's “startin' to heave a broadsides into him” because of it, but he doesn't remember what day it was. This isn't surprising; Keturah's verbal cannonades are likely to make one forgetful of trifles.
At any rate, whether Tuesday or Wednesday, it is certain that it was quarter past twelve, according to the clock presented to the Methodist Society by the Honorable Heman Atkins, when Asaph Tidditt came down the steps of the townhall, after the selectmen's meeting, and saw Bailey Bangs waiting for him on the opposite side of the road.
“Hello, Ase!” hailed Mr. Bangs. “You'll be late to dinner, if you don't hurry. I was headin' for home, all sail sot, when I see you. What kept you?”
“Town business, of course,” replied Mr. Tidditt, with the importance pertaining to his official position. “What kept YOU, for the land sakes? Won't Ketury be in your wool?”
Bailey hasn't any “wool” worth mentioning now, and he had very little more then, but he mopped his forehead, or the extension above it, taking off his cap to do so.