The Brass Pig
by M. Jean Harding

It was going to be a fun day I thought as I sipped a cup of Earl Grey tea in my sister Linda's kitchen. We don't get together that often because I live in Kentucky and she lives in Ohio. When I visit her she always plans something special for us to do. I couldn't wait to get started. I was full of anticipation and curiosity as we finished breakfast and prepared for the day.
Linda and I enjoy the same things. We can spend hours in bookshops and antique stores just browsing. We are both avid readers and I also like to write. We like going out together, stopping at old and new bookstores to browse and then having a leisurely lunch somewhere along the way.
"We're going to an old town," Linda said. As we traveled down the highway she began to tell me just enough to whet my appetite.
"There are many antique stores and no one is in a hurry. The buildings are old and stand as monuments to another time."
" Tell me more," I pleaded as she sped on. I looked at her, secretly grinning as if to herself. I knew I was in for a treat.
"We're having lunch at The Brass Pig," Linda said.
" What's The Brass Pig?"
" That's all I am going to tell you."
I wanted to ask more questions but thought better of it. We drove along in silence for a while, enjoying the perfect autumn day. The bright sun catching the mild breeze through the colorful rainbow of leaves on the trees as we made our way. Each of us were lost in our thoughts, me wondering what she had planned and her grinning with her secret.
Finally she turned off the highway and I saw the sign "Springboro". We began to pass old buildings that housed different kinds of stores. Linda parked on Beech Wood Street. Awnings reached out and covered portions of the sidewalk.
We walked along looking in store windows. I noticed some stores were crowded together, but others were old homes that had been converted into Antique Shops. We continued on gazing in window after window, each one boasting of wares from by-gone days.
"We're almost there," Linda said.
Turning the corner on a narrow street were more shops. There at the far end of the street wedged in between stores, was a coffee shop. Gazing up, I saw a sign in the shape of a pig with the words, "The Brass Pig" hanging below it
"Here we are," Linda said. As we hurried inside we could see the lunch crowd was already there. I listened to the murmur of table talk; water glasses clinking and silverware as it touched plates ever so lightly. The decor was fascinating, I loved it already.
Tables were arranged close together, each covered with red and white checked tablecloths and place mats shaped like pigs. Walls decorated with pictures, antiques and red and white candles perched like birds in sconces around the walls.
We moved toward the back and settled in a corner. Here we could look around and enjoy everything about this cozy little coffee shop.
A waitress wearing a red and white checked apron brought a menu which listed salads, soups, sandwiches, coffee and teas of different flavors. Their desserts were chocolate tort, apple cake, muffins and cream pies.
Linda had been here before, so she ordered for us. She selected the chicken oriental salad served with dainty rolls and raspberry tea. Later for dessert we decided on the chocolate tort served with a scoop of ice cream and the house coffee.
As we waited for our food Linda told me about the history of The Brass Pig.
Linda said, "The man who founded Springboro was Jonathan Wright. He built this two-story building in 1835. His two sons Josiah and Mahlon ran it as a general merchandise store until 1895. The brothers sometimes took eggs and butter in trade for their wares. On one side of the store they sold dry goods and on the other side groceries."
"Does some of the family still own it," I asked her. "And how did it become The Brass Pig?"
"Well, the Wrights sold it about 1885 and the new owners continued the general store until 1930, when it was sold again. In 1989 the Halls bought the building, and had the exterior restored to its original architecture. The Halls still own it. They use part of the building for an antique mall and this side for The Brass Pig," Linda said.
"What a great history, and such a nice coffee shop," I added.
The waitress came with our food.
"Sis, would you ask the blessing?" Linda said.
We bowed our heads and I said, " Father I thank you for all blessings, the beauty of your creation, for my sister and the joy she brings into my life, Amen."
It was a good lunch and afterwards we went outside and took pictures. Then we went to the other side of this historic building browsing and enjoying each others company.
Linda had planned well and I will always remember our special time spent together that day, even though I never learned why it is called "The Brass Pig." I guess Linda and I will have to return to unravel that mystery.

The End