Saturday noon
Mr. Peaslee looked more complacent than ever . It was Saturday noon , and Solomon had just returned from his usual morning sojourn `` up-street . '' He had taken off his coat , and was washing his face at the sink , while his wife was `` dishing up '' the midday meal . There was salt codfish , soaked fresh , and stewed in milk -- `` picked up , '' as the phrase goes ; there were baked potatoes and a thin , pale-looking pie . Mrs. Peaslee did not believe in pampering the flesh , and she did believe in saving every possible cent .