Perhaps the old man was actually in that state of undernourishment which produces such dissatisfaction in the masculine mind; perhaps he was inspired by a sardonic sense of humor. What he did was to reach out and take the half pie yet uncut and remove it to his plate. His wife looked on with horror.
“Why, papa,” said she, “that part of the pie is not cut.”
The old man smiled at her grimly.
“Never mind,” said he. “I can cut it.”
The impression should not be acquired that New England thrift and stinginess are synonymous. A person can be very economical and still be generous and considerate.
The Empty Flour Barrel
A young married woman, whose husband was not regarded as a very good “provider” and who had been housekeeping a year or two, was quite flattered one afternoon at receiving calls by two estimable old ladies of the neighborhood. It may be taken for granted that they knew pretty nearly all the facts regarding the young couple in question. And their disapproval of the husband was about equally balanced by their sympathy for the wife.
After devoting an hour or two to conversation with her guests, the young housekeeper excused herself in order that she might prepare the five o’clock supper. Styles of entertainment naturally change according to the times, but at that period no farm supper table with guests present would be considered as properly spread without an abundant supply of hot soda biscuits which would be made more palatable by serving some kind of fruit sauce.
Shortly after the young hostess had set about her task of preparing supper, a pounding was heard in the kitchen. The two old ladies looked at each other significantly. The pounding continued. The hollow sound could suggest but one thing. The housewife was making a desperate effort to gather up enough flour from a nearly empty barrel to make the biscuits de rigeur for supper.