Carrie Chaffee was determined to maintain a cultured atmosphere in her family's home despite living on what had only recently been the frontier. Meals were formal events, with servants waiting on the table, and elevating conversation was expected. Herbert went along with Carrie's domestic management, up to a point. One issue was the carving. Herbert would stand at the head of the table and slice and serve the roast or fowl. Carrie would often try to give him advice on where to put the fork, and what to do next with the carving knife. Herbert didn't care for this, especially when guests were present, and he dealt with it in a novel way.

When the Chaffees had dinner guests and Carrie, unable to restrain herself, would begin to advise Herbert on the carving, he would point dramatically and call the visitors' attention to a painting hanging over the fireplace behind his wife. It was a failed attempt by Carrie to render the head of a cow in oils. Eben II, in telling the story later, said that the cow looked a bit crosseyed and that all its features were badly out of proportion. The color scheme was unusual, featuring green and purple. Carrie, appalled at what she had wrought, had thrown the painting away a few hours after completing it, but Herbert had retrieved it and hidden it somewhere.

Carrie could never figure out where Herbert kept the painting, nor how he contrived to hang it in the dining room on so many occasions without her noticing. When the guests began staring at it she would become flustered and completely lose interest in the carving. Herbert would give the visitors a commentary on the painting's unusual artistic qualities while peacefully dismembering the roast. After dinner he would somehow manage to take it down and hide it once more.

Submitted by John Van Schenck Chaffee, 2013