§ 160 Spreading the Feast for the Stranger
When Sam Blythe was a Washington correspondent he went into New England to sound out public opinion on one or another of those crises which, politically speaking, are forever threatening the liberties of the people.
He called upon the retired political leader of New Hampshire, who lived in a small but comfortable cottage in a little town. The old gentleman felt a deep concern in the vital question of the hour, whatever it was. Noontime approached and still he was nowhere near through with what he had to say. So he insisted that Blythe should remain with him through the afternoon.
Having sampled the cuisine of the local hotel at breakfast, Blythe promptly consented. The old gentleman excused himself in order to inform his wife that there would be a guest for the midday meal and also to get some important papers bearing on the subject which were stored away, he said, in a room upstairs. Going out, he left the parlor door ajar.
Through the opening Blythe heard a voice, evidently one belonging to the mistress of the household.
“Samantha,” the lady said, raising her tone in order that she might be heard by the cook in the kitchen, “my husband has invited a gentleman to stay for dinner. Take those two large potatoes back down cellar and bring up three small ones.”