THE LORD WILL PROVIDE

ONE winter we ran out of meat. Father probably had a hog to butcher but at this time there was no meat. Our parents won what we should do until butchering time. But fate and a weasel decided the matter. One night Mother was awakened by a loud squawking in the chicken house. Father went out to in vestigate and found eight or ten nice fat hens dead, and saw a weasel quickly making his exit. The hens all had their throats
cut, but were still kicking and warm. There was but one thing to be done. That meat must be saved. So, while Father picked up the hens and cut their heads off, Mother hurriedly made a fire in the stove and put water on to boill. They wakened us children to help pick the chickens. We came sleepily down the stairs, rubbing our eyes. We were told what was expected of us. Out in the biting cold night went Revvie to bring in some of the chickens to scald. He came in holding a big fat hen in each hand. He remembered the shortage of meat. He rolled his eyes heavenward, as he handed the hens to Mother and drawled, Lord will provide! Anyway we had meat! There was no refrigerator, but we hung the dressed hens in a row on the porch and they were soon frozen hard, in the Klickitat winter cold.