Addison and I made for the kitchen door, for we heard grandmother exclaim in tones of deepest indignation, "O you Halstead! What have you done!" Halstead had set the old churn on top of the hot stove, placed a chair close against it, and was standing on the chair, churning with might and main.
His head, as he plied the dasher, was almost touching the ceiling; his face was as red as a beet.

He had filled the stove with dry wood, and the bottom of the churn was smoking; the chimes were warping out of their grooves, and cream was leaking on the stove.

The kitchen reeked with the smoke and odor.
After one horrified glance, grandmother rushed in, snatched the churn off the stove and bore it to the sink.

Her indignation was too great for "Christian words," as the old lady sometimes expressed it in moments of great domestic provocation.

"Get the slop pails," she said in low tones to Ellen and Theodora.