Uncle Silas had lighted his pipe for a comfortable smoke，when Aunt Rebecca looked up from her knitting and said：Silas，do you know that Sunday next will be the thirtieth anniversary of our wedding？
I swan，said Silas，is that so，and what about it？
Oh，nothing，said Aunt Rebecca，only thought may be we ought to kill them two Rhode Island Red chickens．
But，Rebecca，said Uncle Silas，how can you blame them two Rhode Island Red chickens for what happened thirty years ago？