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Pretty soonly, while doing this, I begin to feel like engineers running Lusitania. I decorate my complexion with smudges and imagine how 1000 Newport passengers was on upstairs deck congratulating my intelligence. While thinking thusly I poke more coal into inflamed mouth of Hon. Furnace. Yet I keep my scientific eyesight on Hon. Steam Gag for see he did not over-jump 25 lbs., thusly causing mania to explode.

This engineerish work seem so heroic that I grew quite peev about merely house-maidenly work. Yet I was hired to do. So I perform them with disgust.

While I was upstairs doing bed-make exercise, Hon. Mrs. incroach with sharpness of face peculiar to swords.

“I am quite aquainted with Hon. Furnace,” I say for happy smiling.

“I notice it,” she degrade,“by the thumb-tracks you leave on bed-spread.”

“If you would burn white coal, maybe I would match your delicate home more nicely,” I snuggest.

She reply by not doing so.

Hon. Furnace seem more depressed that afternoon p. m., so I sit beside him to shovel nourishment. Hon. Steam Gag say 14, which are very sick temperature. Hon. Furnace look dull-eye like fish, and more I coaled him the less he het. I feed him slight soap-box for light foods, and by 4:11 he smile more pleasanter and commence eating coal. At 5:12 Hon. Steam Gag awoke up to taxicab work.