XII FALL CLEANING
To Editor Good Housekeeping Magazine, who realise how collapsed home life looks when being cleaned.
Dear Mr:
Some folks is so clean they cause considerable untidiness everywheres they go. Such was Hon. Mrs August Moon of Salem, Mass, who is another of my bosses gone by. This lady got a house containing mahogany chairs which was brought over by Hon. Pilgrim Fathers when they was running ferryboatCauliflowerbetween Salem and Grand Rapids, Mich. She revere her furniture and all her other ancestors. Each day she require me to stroke her mahogany lovingly with furniture polish.
This Hon. Lady are very superstitious about dirt. She think it are not clean to have around. She imagine dust, soot & mildew enter her house like a burgler andTogo must be a policeman to arrest it when it gets inside.
“Togo,” she say, while I am enslaving myself amidst dishwater in kitchen, “I just heard a mouse making footprints in attic. Rosh up with mop, please, and remove his muddy tracks.”
I do so.
“Togo,” she requesh nextly, “six autumn leaves has fell on the walk befront of the house. Gather them in your apron and burn them thoroughly in kitchen stove, taking care that no ashes escape.”
I do so.
“Togo,” she hypothecate, “I can observe two fly-tracks running over portrait of my ancestor, Gov. Beelzebub Biggs. Kindly to wash his face carefully with cast-steel soap and don’t offend his dignitary.”
This also I accomplish compressing the insurgent feeling that arise continuously in my elbows.
“The early bird obtains worms,” she say cheerly when I arise at 4.32 a. m. for scrubb with sudds.
“At such time as this I prefer sleep to worms,” are smart reply I make.
“To-day we shall commence housecleaning,” she report last Fryday a. m.
“Commenceit!” I communicate crossly like Napoleon. “When did we ever discontinue to houseclean?”
“Ah ho!” she laugh at. “What you has been doing is merely lick-and-promise. Housecleaning are different. To houseclean you must pull down everything that is up and pull up everything that is down. Home must be carried out into the back yard and throughly swep. All dust in house must be shoved out onto carpets which are on clothesline; then all carpets on clothesline must be brutably punished with clubs until dust fly back into house. And so on until exhausted.”
I could not disobey such wise demand. So I remove off coat and commence eloping up & down stair, each time carrying some variety of pianos and mahogany dresser. My suspenders bulged with gigantic strength while Hon. Mrs Moon stood near and explained how I was more weak than Irish labour.
That house were completely filled with break-a-brack and other dishes which had been shot full of holes by mean British inBattle of Revolution which occurred in 1492. There was many plates & cups, beautiful but very lame. I drop several of these in removal, and they look more broke than usual. Several of them fell down stairs ahead of me and arrived with considerable crashes.
“I estimate my loss at $580 which must be removed from your wages,” Mrs Moon say-so while she stood mourning over those fractured relicks.
I reply by saying nothing.
I rip up carpets with strength peculiar to a giant full of steam. I throw him on clothesline and trott backwards for more. I bathe Mr Moon’s painted ancesters with soap-wash till they look nearly handsome. I polish floors, door, silver & hardwear with continuous rapidity. I wash stove with sudds and clean 14 pairs gloves with gasolene.
Then another breakage occur which were too bad. I was smoothing one snobbish-looking china-closet with rags, when I axidentally broke him endwise by dropping out of window. Mrs. Moon could not help from noticing.
“$19.82 extra subtracted from your wages!” she holla arithmatically.
No intelligent reply from me.
Hon. Mrs Moon spend morning in attic opening reverend trunks and fetching forth quilts & skirts belonging to Pilgrims. These I also pin to clothes-line. Nextly I brosh wall-paper with whisk and climb to roof where I save a white cat which had crolled up drain-pipe to suicide himself. I receive no extra pay for this kindness. While doing thusly I burst $27 worth of windows and bill was sent to me by Mrs Moon who holla how much it was.
I carry 6 tons complete books from cellar to library on 3rd floor. When I find they no belong there I took them back again. I also transmit considerable bags containing coal from woodshed to basement where it look more comfortable.
Very sorry event occurred when I was washing 48 eggs shell china cups. Shelf of table upturned and all splatter to floor. Mrs Moon screech and charge it to my account.
After that I paint back porch, carry sideboards, croll over all ceilings of rooms to fish away cobwebs with broom and stuff upholstery into all lounges what need it.
Mrs Moon were a very thoughtful woman. She always thought of something more for me to do with arms and legs. When I wason top-ladder dusting chandeliers she suddenly remember her mother’s fire-screen she had not seen since Agnes was married.
“Go down cellar and open 11 boxes containing trash and see if mother’s fire-screen ain’t there.”
I do so. It were not.
“Nail them up again quickly,” she comment. “Then go to roof and sweep out chimbley.”
I elevated myself to loftly position and stood poking smok-tracks from chimbley. Just then she holla,
“Come down 1st floor, please, and ade me in removing tables upstairs.”
I do so wishing I was a bird and could fly up and down with less feetsteps.
By that time Hon. Sun were setting and I feel like doing the same. So I choose soft chair in back yard and soothe myself by flopping to it. There I reposed amidst rags, rugs, brooms, portraits, paints and other cleanly dirt.
“Why you set there so worklessly?” she require, seeing me with eagle expression.
“I have moved so much that I am now moveless,” I reply with great pathos.
She make her eyes look kind and charity.
“Maybe you tired!” she collapse with considerable gentleness.
“Ah no, Mrs Madam,” I contuse chivalrously. “I not tired—I merely exhausted.”
“Servants should be cherished as well as masters,” she say scientifically. “I acknowledge my carelessness. In enthusiasm of housecleaning I forgot you was as apt to get fatigued as any other horse. I permit you to feel weary, because you are Japanese and not strong like a Irish labour. I forgive this fault in you.”
“O thank you so many for that gentle heart!” I report back, enjoying slight tear-drop from gratitude.
“No, Togo, you may rest,” she say. “But while you are resting, would you please go out to back yard and beat a few Brussels carpets?”
Excuse me, Mr Editor, for acting so unobliged to a lady. But I could not do furthermore. My arms walk out on strike when I attempt to make them work. So I go to kitchen and arrive back with satchel grip and derby hat.
“Sweethearted Mrs Madam,” I report, “I realise how my mind is too lightweight for your serious employment. Therefore I quit.How much you estimate I owe you for damage, breakage & crackage I done to-day?”
“1230.50 would cover everything,” she suppose.
“At my present wage-pay of $5 per weekly,” I snuggest, “I should be very elderly Japanese before last instalment was pay off. Therefore I shall not encumber you by waiting so long.”
“But what shall I do about that bill?” she require nervely.
“Ah, Mrs Madam, you are honest lady,” I bounce back. “I are sure I can trust you to keep that bill more better than anybody else.”
“You done my household considerable injury,” she sum up.
“I are willing to forgive that also,” I repartee. “Therefore, if you will present me with 50c out of what I owe you, I shall retreat by trolley and leave your home safe from me.”
She contribute 25c from purse, because she say she can’t get no more change until her husband get back. That gentleman are in Arabia collecting rugs, so I decide it was too long to wait for 25c.
When nextly seen I was standing on depot-station in New England R. R. asking Hon.Ticket Merchant if he would sell me fare to some city where folks never clean house except when scolded by Brd of Health.
Hoping you are the sameYours trulyHashimura Togo.
XIII APARTMENT HOUSE LIFE IN NEW YORK
To Editor Home & Lady page whose wisdom is furniture for many apartments.
Dear Mr:
Excuse my handwriting for being cramped this time—I have been living in one N. Y. apartment-house where everything is squeezed. I tell you.
A short time of yore I seen following advertisement-news in N. Y. Paper:
WANTED: Small-size Japanese required to do housework in fashionable apartment. Must be able to squeeze deliciously tight between furniture and to take up no room whatsoever. No fat persons required. Apply to Mrs. Buckingham Jinx, Matterhorn Apts.
WANTED: Small-size Japanese required to do housework in fashionable apartment. Must be able to squeeze deliciously tight between furniture and to take up no room whatsoever. No fat persons required. Apply to Mrs. Buckingham Jinx, Matterhorn Apts.
I was entirely proud & nervus, Mr Editor, to apply to that jobs. Formerly I had been simple, jayseed Japanese working in ½ sizetowns where nothing was large. But here I was in great city of N. Y. where everything was giganterous & big. Home-life here, I thought, must be unlimited like Pennsylvania Depots.
This show how thoughtless we are when we think.
I go to address of that Jinx lady, which is at No 333 W 333rd Street, comfortable neighbourhood where 20 miles of sky-scrape homes are clumped together attempting to look quaint. I was proud to see their swollen size. How expansive it was for Japanese Schoolboy to be employed in city where everything was so big that even small cottages look like Flatiron Bldgs! Already I begin to feel pity for Peoria where folks must choke in 2 story houses.
Pretty soonly I arrive to Matterhorn Apts. How stylishly enormalous it was! I never observed a place with more upstairs. 12 complete stories I could count with my sore neck. And so fashionable to go into! Its frontside entrance was filled with marble halls, fountains, brassy electricity, golden elevators, noble niggero boys in uniform of admirals. This was most biggest entrance in America, and I was certainly sure that folks what livein those apartments upstairs must enjoy such grand-size rooms they have to ride motorcycles between parlour and dinning-room.
While thusly I thought Swedish gentleman in proud overalls arrive up.
“What you wish, standing there foolishly?” he require.
“Do you own this palace?” I ask to know.
“Yes,” he report peevly. “I are the Janitor.”
“I am suprised by this Matterhorn house,” I explode. “The mountainous steepness of its apartments apalls me.”
“The mountainous steepness of its rents would apall you more, if you seen them,” he explain with insulting eyebrows.
So he poke me to elevator where I was uplifted to 9 floors. Folks living in apartment house leads very up-and-down life. When they go outside they must be elevated downwards, when they return they must be vice versa. It are impossible to see how folks can be level in such home life, and yet it is.
Hon. Mrs Jinx, entirely Duchess appearing lady, meet me at doorway with Vanderbilt nose.
“This are my apartment,” she express, pointing to a hallway surrounded byexpensive looking cells filled with gilty furniture, pianolas, painted portraits, rugs and mahoganish tables resembling J. P. Morgan.
“Yes,” I report. “This are your apartment—but where is your home?”
“In N. Y.,” she report with Waldorf expression, “home is where we pay our rent.”
Mr Editor, when that lady show me her apartment I was jigged by surprise. Each room was less than life-size, yet it contain wealth resembling Buckingham. Mahoganish doors, plush walls, luxury here and there—but where was there room to live in?
“This are drawing-room,” she indicate, making points to Pullman-car compartment containing gas-log and French-speaking furniture. I should like to set down in such a room, but the chairs was in the way.
She show me dinning-room. It contain four-plate-power table, portraits of fish on walls and shelf with several beery steins with German motto, “Drinken, Dranken, Drunken.”
“This cozy room are good for small banquets,” she acknowledge.
“Small banquets is oftenly the most limited,” I encouridge.
She show me library.
“This are called the snuggery,” she condole. I felt very congested to look at it. Folks must snug very snugly to snuggle into such a snuggery. On high top shelf was following books to show it was a library: “Pilgrum’s Progress,” “Life of John Drew,” “Bradstreet on Financial Failures,” “Blue Book of N. Y. Smarty Set.”
Under table was poker chips to entertain scholars while reading.
Nextly she show me kitchen. O shocks! It were size like the interior of a upright piano. Hon. Gas Stove look chilly from setting too close to Hon. Ice Box which was hot from contax with gas stove.
“This Kitchen are small but comfortless,” she explain braskly. “It are slightly compressed, yet there is room for everything to cook with.”
“One thing to cook with there is no room for,” I snuggest.
“What should that be?” she require.
“The cook,” I explain.
“Smallish Japanese is capable of squeezing,” she fire back.
Nextly she ope door by Kitchen and show me one dark-complexioned cubby hole to look at.
“What a nice vegetable closet!” I report. “But too small, perhaps, for large cabbages.”
“That are not a vegetable closet—it are a servant’s bedroom,” she develop.
I would be astonished, but there was no room.
Sardines gets used to living in cans, Mr Editor; so I soonly became acquainted with how to live in N. Y. flat without knock-off of elbow. It were umpossible to turn around in all rooms, but I could get out of doors by backing up.
This Mrs Jinx got a husband who are a broker, but not yet broke. He come home nights long enough to change clothes and take his wife to some other Roof Garden. For conversation he complain of his debts.
“Why should we live in flat we can’t afford?” he jowl, reaching across dinning-room to get a match.
“Mr Husband!” report Hon. Mrs with spasma, “how could you forget to remember our position? In this house live 2 families intimately acquainted with a Trust. Also, look at our main entrance downstairs—it are a bigger waiting room than the Grand Central Station and twice as lonesome. Thishouse got the brightest buttons, swiftest elevator and crosset janitor in New York.”
Sometime Mrs Jinx have company for dinner. Her dinning-room was sifficient for 4. Therefore she ask 10. N. Y. folks is conveniently compressible, especially when fat. Folks wearing diamonds in front of them would arrive to these dinners and explain why they wasn’t at Newport.
“How nicely you are situated here,” they snuggest, looking sidewise.
“O surely yes!” obligate Hon. Mrs. “We have splandid view of the airshaft from library window and our dinning-room overlook some of the finest advertising signs in the city.”
“So fortunate you are with so much room!” say lady wearing diamond bib on chest. “In our apartment we are pusitively crowded.”
No one could believe it.
“Why do you keep a canary?” ask one gentleman of one lady.
“Because I have no room for a parrot,” say one lady to one gentleman.
And so onward.
My cookery is deliciously abominable, thank you, in that 1-8 size kitchen. Yetthose N. Y. persons is so refined they can disguise any taste by politeness.
“You have a chef, I suspect?” require one brokerish gentleman gnawing my chicken crokets.
“Two of them,” deceive Mrs Jinx with 5th Ave expression. I arrive to room looking proud with dishes. “This Togo are my faithful butler inherited from my grandfather who was a lawyer and kept many retainers.”
I am alarmed to hear such large conversation in such small space. And yet I acted very intelligent, considering my stupidity.
My life in that compartment become more and more homeless as time relapsed. Hon. Mrs Jinx were the most stay-away lady I ever seen. She say she go out to get the air; and I could not blame her. For 2 entire weeks she was somewheres else all time. In early a. m. after 10 o’clock she go down town for get hats, manicure & other jewelry. By noon she telephone, “I shall not be home lunch, because I am too busy wasting time with Mrs Swatts-Byng.” By night she telephone, “I shall not be home dinner, because I am taking my Husband to eat at Astoria hotel, afterwards we shall go see musical-comical theater.”
Lonesomeness arrived to me as much as that apartment would hold. It were true I could breathe more with less persons taking up room; yet my thoughts became all by themselves. I feel like Hon. Robinson Caruso on a vacant island.
One early a. m. Hon. Mrs uprose for breakfast early at 11 o’clock. She approach to me with tear-drop eye.
“Togo,” she say, “you have been with me 5 entire weeks. Therefore you can be considered the oldest family servant in N. Y. I shall reward you with bad news. My Husband has did so much brokerage in Wall Street that he has broke. Therefore, we shall be more tight compressed than usual.”
“How could it?” I ask feelishly.
“We must move to a smaller flat,” she glub. “Will you faithfully follow us thereto?”
“Mrs Madam,” I entrench, “I might do faithfully what you say. I might follow you to smaller flat, but how could I squeeze in when I got there? Excuse me while I go to Arizona where I can stand with 1000 miles on each side of me and can turn over in bed without wounding my elbows on a washstand. Indians does not live so high as New Yorkers, but they lives much broader.”
Hon. Mrs explode her voice from my words and attemp’ to imprison my escape by locking front door. But she could not. With Samurai war-cry I open umbruella and, attaching myself to handle, I make jump-out from bedroom window and flew 9 stories like Hon. Glen Curtiss.
When I arrived to pave-walk Hon. Janitor see me and report,
“You are broken out with lunacy.”
Hoping you are the same,Yours truly,Hashimura Togo.
XIV CAN AUTOMOBILES BE TAMED FOR HOME USE?
To Editor Home and Lady Page who are so smooth of heart and soft of mind he can safely introduce gasolene into most explosive families.
Dear Hon. Mr!—With delicious rapidity I shot off from my last situation of work, care Mrs. Seth Hopp, Camden, N. J. This lady admire my talent so much she appoint me to every task of a disagreeable nature. In her supply of housework she include one slight, grey ottomobile of one-lung capacity and asthma of engine. This machinery are like mosquitos, small but cross.
Mr. Editor, I have always dreaded to get acquainted with ottomobiles because they are connected with so many crimes. Yet when I am employed as Gen. Houseworker in a house where a cook must understand chauffering, what could I?
Last Munday a. m. Hon. Mrs. Hoppapproach to me with racetrack expression and corrode,
“Togo, as soonly as you finish washing dishes, go out to garage and wash ottomobile. Then take him down to R R depot to meet Mr. Hopp at 5.66 train.”
“I do not understood your ottomobile,” I abject.
“Nobody does,” she say cheerly. “Yet I are sure you can become mister of this difficult wagon, because Japanese are extra bright little people.”
I thank her with bent stomach. And yet calm nervousness straddled my heart.
As soonly as I had finished bathing dishes, Hon. Mrs. lead me forthly to gas-stable where that iron animal stood amidst awful perfumery. I was shocked to observe the cruel expression of lamps with which he gazed at me.
“He are simple and good natured when you know his habits,” she explain.
“This truth are also true of vampires,” I dib for frights.
“Your duty must be to dust him night and morning, manicure his carborette and train him to obey. When you learn to control him, it shall be your duty to drive Hon. Mr. Hoppback & forthly. I show you how to learn.”
Hon. Mrs go to home & put on racetrack hat peculiar to motor. Then she teach me free lesson.
Firstly she go to front nose of Hon. Ottomobile and twist crank resembling ice-cream freezer. Mad trembly arrive from his insides!
“Now he are ready to do anything,” collapse Hon. Mrs dragging me to seat besides her. I set here holding on to my soul.
“Observe my antics if possible,” she commit with extreme dexterity of thumbs, heels, hands & elbows while she poke 6 buttons, jerk 1 doz handles, inflame electricity and make goose-cry by horn.
I sat gast to see her. WHOOSH!! We commence onward.
“That are way to start ottomobile,” holla Mrs Seth Hopp while avoiding death on road & wheeling corners with aviator expression.
“It are easy like astronomy,” I rejoint, holding on to my hair to keep him from blowing off. And so forth.
At R. R. station we stop up and load on Hon. Mr. Hopp, one large, portable man of important fat.
“Togo are learning to chaff this car so he can drag you back & forth,” decry Hon. Mrs.
“He do not look very powerful,” contuse him cattishly.
How could he realise?
Mr. Editor, driving ottomobiles are a warlike work unsuited to Gen. Housekeeping. How can I do hired girl tasks, yet expect myself to command those harsh cranks and greasy energy what makes gasolene go? To make a chauffeur out of a cook are like making bullets out of buscuits. It could be done, but can it?
Yet this Mrs. Seth Hopp, Hon. Lady of extreme brain, was determined I should be a chum to her car, although I were sure he did not like my looks. Each morning for ½-hour time she give me lesson in how to start ottomobiles. I learn this with all the fido qualities of my Japanese religion. Yet something told me different.
“This horsepower are full of mules,” I tell her one day while I set there pulling 13 handles expecting Hon. Car to go when he would not.
“Brace uply!” she say for courage. “Any child can start an ottomobile.”
“Why you not employ a child, then?” I require.
I could see by her silence that she did not admire my rudeness.
After practice I become more intellectual with that machinery. With kindly assistance from Hon. Mrs I could tease him to start from his barn and run dangerously around block amid loudy curses from gasolene. Pride filled me up. Folks often feels thusly before cyclones.
That p. m. Hon. Mrs arrive to kitchen where I was manufacturing pie with mushroom expression peculiar to cooks.
“Togo,” she denounce, “you sippose you can now start Hon. Ottomobile by your lonesome self?”
“No starter could ever be more scientific than me,” I negotiate, holding pie-crust on my wrists.
“Glad to hear!” she congratulate. “Hon. Mr. Hopp return to-night by 6.6½ train. Feed 2 gals gasolene to Hon. Ottomobile and deliver Hon. Husband to me as soonly as possible.”
This were supreme time for prides. Bellboys, admirals and postmasters seldom feel more happy in time of great victory.
I put on respectaful gloves & greasy overcoat to resemble chauffer. I smudge some engine-smoke across nose, so I should look more mechanical. Then I go to gas-stable and quell Hon. Ottomobile with my hero expression. He seem quite doggish.
Skilful cranks by me. Loud roary from his stomach. Like Hon. Julius Cæsar crossing the Delaware I lep to seat & make my heels, thumbs & elbows go in all directions. O banzai! That sweet, tame ottomobile jump forwards like a canary. Defly I turn wheel and make him sidle up one street & down next. Citizens was seen dodging respectfully side by side to let me pass. One gentleman raise Bull Moose voice and mention it when I scratch his knuckles slightly. More faster and yet more so I sped onwards. I seem to be walking on golden wings. Poetry circulated in my chest. Thusly do gasolene make heroes of us all.
Pretty soonly I arrive up to R R station where I observe Hon. Hopp standing there in all the importance of his fat. Him & several conductors looked very gast when they observe great skill with which I knocked hitching-post from befront of saloon and still came on.
All wheels was waltzing nicely as I turn Hon. Car close to platform, intending for to stop and load on Hon. Boss.
But alast! when I got there I could not stay. Despite of how I wiggled handles, punched buttons, reversed myself with heels and commanded with voice, that inflamed chariot were deaf to pity and determined to continue onward. Hon. Mr make motions for me to arrest myself, but all I could do was to set in seat while Hon. Car gollup rudely around block. With Samurai calmness I continue to turn wheel, hoping thusly to arrive back to station. And so I did. Pretty soonly I come up to R R platform again. Despite my angry jerks by handle, I could observe how peevly Hon. Hopp look at me.
“Togo,” he holla, “come here!”
“I do so!” I response, so I make skilled wobble of wheel and drove Hon. Ottomobile up on platform, where he go for Hon. Boss so straight that this fatty gentleman start off with dodge run peculiar to ducks avoiding elephants. But Hon. Ottomobile was more quicker in the legs, so he pounce on Hon. Mr with rude affection peculiar to New Foundland dogs. Groans by him. Toots by otto. Then onwards I proceeded, still attempting tostrangle that horsepower which would not quit.
Mr. Editor, you could not imagine such stubborn bullishness could be in anything not human. The more I twisted that wagon, the faster he go. Ditches, back fences and trees were splintered by his determination. At lastly, because I knew it would be convenient for me to die near the place where I was employed, I turned his nose toward home of Hon. Mrs Hopp.
We got there by very cross lots. Mrs. Hopp were standing by front gate when I whoofed by.
“Togo,” she yall as I pass, “Did you get my husband?”
“Yes, thanks—I got him plenty,” were smart reply I make.
Pretty soonly, by intense wheeling, I come back around block to where that sweet-hearted lady was.
“Put that car back in its stable!” she shreech like eagles.
“I obey!” was reply for me. So with all the Japanese courage I could demand from my ancestors, I turn Hon. Car through front fence, over vegetable garden, across clothes line. When I arrive to garage I put Hon.Car in very neatly, but Hon. Garage refuse to remain standing where he was, but followed in several fractions. 26 feet further on, Hon. Ottomobile, cursing like enraged kangaroos, lep over that cyclone and fall dead in heap of splinters. Nothing alive remained except a few wheels, pandemonium and me.
As soonly as my intellectual mind got back in place, I sat up, determined to see Hon. Mrs about resigning from that dangerous housework. But she saw me previously.
“Togo!” she glub, “how dares you make this rumpage when I spend one whole week teaching you how to start ottomobiles?”
“If you had spent another week teaching me how to stop him, I should be less scattered,” were bright reply from me.
So I remove my derby from around my neck & limp offwards feeling like tonsilitis.
Hoping you are the sameYours truly,Hashimura Togo.
XV A PICNIC PARTY
To Editor Home & Lady Page who enjoys fresh air best when slightly cooked:
Hon. Dear Sir:—
Why should tame folks wish to be wild when they are getting along in nice candition without any Nature around? I ask to know. Hon. Mrs Horse W. Snow, by who I was discharged away recently, might still nourish me in her house if it was not for fresh air subject I tell you about:
This Hon. Snow family reside in Trenton, N. J., where they live. Hon. Mrs Snow have got two (2) complete twins, Frederick & Ederick, age 4 yrs. old each. Hon. Horse W. Snow have got asthma. So every one enjoys affliction in his own way.
Last Fryday, when I was in Hon. Kitchen manufacturing pies by baking it, Hon. Mrs approach up to me & explan,
“Togo,” she say it, “do you unstand picnics?”
“What kind of Gen. Housekeeping are that?” I ask to enquire.
“It are the only kind what can be did outdoors,” she report.
“How do you make a picnic?” are next question for me.
“Picnics can be manufactured by following recipee,” she snuggest:
“1st:—Fill an ottomobile with children, pie & other sandwitches;2st:—Find a piece of Nature and set down on it with lunch;3st:—Continue this programme until go-home time, then do so.”
“1st:—Fill an ottomobile with children, pie & other sandwitches;
2st:—Find a piece of Nature and set down on it with lunch;
3st:—Continue this programme until go-home time, then do so.”
I listened with wrapped attention.
“Cannot Nature be seen without taking lunch along?” I ask off.
“I have no time to answer statistics,” she dib hashly. “To-morrow morning by early a. m. we depart away in ottomobile for find some soft place in Nature to sit on. I wish you prepare lunch of delicious hard-boiledness to include egg, chicken, more eggs, cake, some eggs, sandwitches & confused varieties of pie.”
“I obey similar to soldiers,” in voice from me.
“And don’t forget the eggs,” she reproach while eloping away.
That ottomobile of Hon. Horse W. Snow are a 7 passenger car. Therefore it do not act surprised when 10 persons of sorted sizes gets into it. Thusly, it look last Satday morning by early a. m. when Hon. Ottomobile give hoots similar to martyrs about to enjoy break down. Included among those getting in was Mrs & Mr Horse W. Snow & 2 twins; Mr & Mrs Hamlet J. Dilk & 2 yrs. old Arthur; Togo & food; Ethel & Albert, lovely young folks who look at each other with fiancee expression.
Honks by Hon. Otto.
Hon. Horse W. Snow, who was at the wheel pushing gasolene, say, “I have look forwards to this day for joyful time.”
“We shall have delightful picnic,” renig Mrs Horse W. “Togo, why are you so unintellectual as to carry pie with its head downwards?”
“This are delightful day to find Nature at home,” say Hon. Horse W. with happy smiling.
“It are,” derange Hon. Mrs. “Horse, whyyou insist on wheeling through so many bumps that my elbows shake loose?”
“Let us go to Buttermilk Falls where moss is there,” snuggest Hon. Dilk.
“Buttermilk Falls are full of disgust,” report Hon. Mrs Dilk.
They would doubtlessly enjoyed some more quarrel, but they were discontinued by rumpage in their midst where Hons. Ederick & Frederick was making slaps to Hon. Dilk baby, age 2. Weeps.
Everybody wish go somewhere else. Ethel wish go Lover’s Leap. Albert require go Altoona Vista. Hon. Mrs Snow demand go Trolley View Park. I wish go home, but everybody was careless to ask my requirements.
But Hon. Snow, who was driving ottomobile, took us to Morning Glory Glenn, because nobody wish go there.
Morning Glory Glenn were nice landscape resembling some photos of Nature I have seen. It include wooden trees, a wet brook, considerable wasps & other outdoor symptoms.
“Togo,” say Hon. Snow with boss expression, “I shall attend to all the hard work of this picnic if you fetch 8 buckets water, cut down 11 trees, make Dutch oven by pilingstones, put baby to sleep, watch twins and bake potatus.”
“This are very restful spot,” report Hon. Ethel.
I did not notice it. Nature look like any other kitchen to me, except there was more room to get tired in.
In the immediate meanwhile all that picnic were unfastening lunching basket and enjoying many unpleasant things about him.
“Who spilled mustard in angel cake?” require Hon. Snow looking like a jury.
“Togo,” report Hon. Mrs Snow peevly.
I say nothing by chopping wood.
“Who broke 17 eggs & forgot to bring butter while doing so?” approach Hon. Ethel with finacee eyebrows.
“Togo,” snuggest Hon. Albert with engaged expression.
I carry silent firewood to blazes.
Hon. Mrs Dilk spread down tablecloth of Turkish redness & make him look good housekeeping by putting plates, pickles, ham & saucers on him.
“It are going to rain!” report all together like chorus girls.
“I are to blame for that also,” I acknowledge.
All seem pleased to hear my crime, yet no intellectual reply.
By wet water of runnybrook, Frederick & Ederick was playing Indian by using Mrs Dilk’s 2 yrs. old baby for a prisoner. Pretty soonly, they dropped Hon. Baby in wet water to see how well he float. He did not do so, thank you; therefore I must plunge myself in and remove Baby out. He notice my chivalry by angry howells.
“I have saved your Baby from a watery tombstone,” I report to Mrs Dilk.
“Could you not save him without wetting his feet so seriously?” she ask out crankerously.
“Next time he drowns, he should carry an umberella!” I snuggest, while poking potatus in fire where they would burn better.
Hon. Sky now look very sorry like he expect rain. Yet not yet. Lunching were nearly most prepared. Ethel & Albert were enjoying disagreeable love-talk, Hon. Snow & Hon. Dilk was drinking appetite from bottel, Frederick & Ederick was weeping as usual—when Oh!!!! Hon. Mrs Dilk come hop-jump over hill and make following explanation:
“Bull! Bull!!”
We could hear somebody talking moo-language slightly off in distance.
“Who shall save us?” require Hon. Snow, picking up Ed. & Fred. (twins) while Hon. Mrs Dilk obtained Baby.
Looking over the eyebrow of the hill, I observe one fatherly cow enjoying salad of daisy-cup blossoms. He seemed to be a smiling cattle of Tammany Hall nature.
“Togo,” require Hon. Snow with militia expression, “you go scare Hon. Bull offwards while me & Mr Dilk bravely save wives & children.”
They all began walking backwards to fence 86 feet away. That Hon. Bull appear very civilized, so I was sure he would go away by request. I had read in news-print, somewheres, that bulls are afraid of red rags; therefore, I took up that reddy tablecloth and approach close by his nose making waves with it.
“Shoo!” I repeat like a toreador.
All folks, while running, yell, “Don’t do! Don’t do!” but I was too busy scaring bulls to make notice of them.
All suddenly, Hon. Bull look upwards & observe my antix. He must of been extra brave, because that red rag did not scare him slightly. Snores of rage from him. Hebegin pawing grass with finger-nails. Loudly bellus by him. Then—O rush!! He elevated his horns downwards and make gollup for me.
When I see how ambitious he look, I did one great heroism: I continued to wave red rag & rush towards them picnic folks so I could be there to protect them when Hon. Bull begin to hook. They was 48 feet ahead of me, but me & Hon. Bull run very fast. I keep ahead, because he stop to swear two or three times. We reached Hon. Fence together, just as Hon. Snow & Hon. Dilk was getting over with armful of family.
Roars!! That grand-square animal kicked me with horns so skilfully that I made airship movement & come down on fence just in time to help Hon. Dilk & family fall over. Yet they was thankless. Everybody was on other side by that time. You would think they should be happy to see me light among them—yet not.
Hon. Bull spent 36 minutes making angry promenades up & down fence talking oratory in cow language. Then he go back to where Hon. Lunch was & spent rest of afternoon kicking it into river with horns.
Hon. Sky begin to rain & them (2) twinsmade it wetter by weeps. All wish to go homewards, but that was umpossible, because Hon. Ottomobile were in field next to where Hon. Bull were setting down.
At 7:26 p. m. time, Hon. Farmer come along with moustache under chin & offer to coax off Bull, price $5.
“He are harmless,” interrogate Hon. Farmer.
“I know it,” report Hon. Snow. “He merely chased us to tell us so.”
We all got into car, pretty soonly, and start homewards amidst considerable drips and shipwrecked feelings of stumach.
“Shakspeare never wrote nothing so tragic like to-day,” glub Hon. Snow.
“Dearie, when you see Nature, you must take him like he comes,” snuggest Hon. Mrs.
“He’ll have to come to my house, next time I see him,” he dib.
When we arrive up to R. R. station, I was surprised: Hon. Snow stop ottomobile.
“Togo,” he say so, “This are where you get off.”
“You wish me depart homeless?” I snagger.
“Since you are so smart at flagging bulls,” he resnort, “maybe you can wave red ragsat engineer and tell him take you some place where picnics is unknown & brains unnecessary.”
Speaking thusly, Hon. Ottomobile depart away full of honks.
Hoping you are the same,Yours truly,Hashimura Togo.
XVI AN ADVENTURE IN BANTING
To Editor Ladies’ Page which are never too fat to seem agreeable.
Hon Mr: Last job I were divorced from were home of Hon. Mrs Violet J. Bobb who resides in the suburbs of Illinois. This Hon. Bobb lady seem very wholsale about her beauty which contain 207 lbs complete poise.
One day she approach to me & report,
“Togo,” she say so, “I am going to have a reduction of myself.”
“Will you be a great bargain?” I ask to know.
“Ah surely yes!” she deploy. “I intend to be marked down from 207 lbs to 180 in one month.”
I show my amazement by surprise.
“What will Hon. Mr Bobb say,” I rebuke, “when he return to dinner each p. m. and find his Love growing less and less? Would you shrink thusly from the hand that feeds you?”
“If that hand did not feed me so much,perhapsly I would be less mountainous,” she gollup.
Yet she were determined. With immediate quickness she send to Hon. Dr Physician and get Aunty Fat cure. Following was recipe for it:
1st—Make things disagreeable for self and others.
2st—Dress in rubber shirt-waist & exercise until entirely unhappy. Keep on doing so.
3st—Avoid sleep by keeping awake.
4st—Avoid foods in any form. Beef tea & hard tack may be used as a substitute. Add Gen. Discomfort.
5st—Keep away from pleasant thoughts, as these are very fatty.
6st—Shun all proteids, caryatids and asteroids.
Mr Editor, did you ever try to cook for a lady what requires nothing to eat but hard tack & beef tea? Such work might be easy, but it ain’t. Supplying her with meals were like feeding canned vacuum to camels—light work, but deliciously scientific.
Hon. Mr Bobb, who was thin and red headed like a match, could eat a banquet multiplied by three each day and appear just as wireyas before. Foods make him thinner, so he require it continuously. Therefore, I must cook very lopsided meals for them Bobbs to eat it. For dinner-eat Hon. Bobbs absorb veal stew containing potatus, fricaseed gravy, hot buns & beans of great wealth. But Hon. Mrs Bobbs give me strick orders to serve her only bowl of soupless broth with plate of very hard tack.
“I appreciate bravery of soldiers,” she say, eating with gnaws.
“Why should it?” reply her husband.
“Because,” she wep, “after eating hard tack for 1 week I should be willing to die for Country or anything else.”
For dessert Hon. Mr had a minced pie while Hon. Mrs had a hysteric. When Hon. Mr seen this noise he run to telephone and report.
“Oh Dr, Dr!” he holla, “Hon. Mrs have got one hysteric!”
“So glad to hear!” rejoint Hon. Medicine with smiling voice. “Grief are a great reducer.”
Hon. Mrs took walking exercise every morning from 9 o’clock until she got back. In this promenade she resemble elephants marching in Siamese funeral—each footstepseemed to go in front of the other with sorry expression of great weight. When she return back she set down in parlour attempting to deceive herself into staying awake.
“Your lunching are prepared on table,” I pronounce with servant voice.
“Please do not call beef tea lunching!” she snib like a cross stork.
She set down and et hard tack with extreme desolation.
After lunching she go groanfully to upstairs side. Pretty soonly I hear plaster and other brick-a-brack falling amidst considerable earthquake, so I know Hon. Mrs was rolling her figure over the carpet.
After 2 complete weeks of this hygiene had went by, Hon. Bobbs come home one night with scales for weighing coal.
“Now we shall observe how much you have subtracted by efforts,” he negotiate cheerly.
“I am so wasted away I can scarcely jump,” she mone. She step to scales which throw up their arms with loudy clatter when she got on.
Hon. Bobbs hang considerable 100 lbs of iron to Hon. Scales before he could strike a balance. At lastly Mrs Madam was weighed.
“Dearie,” report Hon. Husband with voice,“You have not suffered all for vain. You have lost exactly ½ lb!”
She fainted all over him.
Mr. Editor, there are nothing more injurious to life than doing what is good for us. Folks seeking health are considerable insurance risk. Dutiful persons is nearly always cross, and dypsepia are the favourits pastime of folks what never do no harm to their interior stomachs.
Me & Hon. Bobbs got entirely worried about how Hon. Mrs was making behaviour. In losing 2 lbs she dropped her spirits 1 ton. So I make lecture to her on this subjeck one day.
“Why you live in midst of groceries & take nothing?” I ask out. “Sailors enjoys more bill of fare when shipwrecked on logs. When driven desperado by hunger thay can at leastly cook each other.”
“Not having to drink beef tea are sifficient to make them happy,” she croke with Ibsen voice.
All day she behave with air of rejected alimony. When her Husband encroach home by night time he notice this.
“Kitten,” he require, “how much pounds you lost to-day?”
Peeved silence by her.
“O dearie,” he deplore. “If you continue this bant some longer, home will never seem snug again. Since you started to reduce, you have become fatter and me thinner. In attempting to reduce your waist you merely make your mind narrow. The less you eat the more biting your replies becomes. O fill my home like once you used to do, or I shall blow off and become suddenly zero!”
Thus he say it with voice like a sad actor. But she merely set exercising her elbows cruely like a Svoboda.
Next morning while Hon. Mrs were off making lonesome walk for thinness, I was in kitchen thinking thoughtfully about Fat. Why should ladies abhor this delicious padding? I ask to know. Are not round circles more beautiful than straight strings? Are not pillows more lovely as snakes? Answer is, Yes!!!
Therefore, I must lead this Boss Lady away from her emaciated mania before her husband removed himself from her peeved disposition and happy home was shipwrecked around my kitchen.
So I lit gas stove, took out recipe book, flour, sugar, apples & other nourishments and with immediate quickness I began stewing things what smelled like a banquet.
At noon time Hon. Mrs Madam come to table and set down, as usual, with forceable-feeding expression.
I put Hon. Soup befront of her. She startle.
“What food is this which smell so disobediently fragrant?” she ask out.
“Tometoes soup six inches thick & full of fatty nourishment,” I rake off.
“I refuse to eat such!” she yellup—and before I could took it away she had assimilated it entirely with spoon.
Next dish were turkey hash escorted by fried potatus, cinnamoney rolls, jelly & baked bean.
“I shall scold you!” she commence, but could not do so because she was too busy forking that food with considerable smacks.
And so onward through complete programme of vegetables until she reach apple dumpling & 2 cups chocolate.
She sigh.
Pretty soonly I observe her in parlour-room laying on sofa, eating candy-box and readingMrs Humpley Ward book for sentimental joys. Sleep arrived nextly, and I felt quite patriotic to think how peaceful she was for 2 complete hours.
At hour of 4:27 p. m. she came to kitchen with new expression of brightly smiling.
“Togo,” she report, “you have saved my life by your disobedience. How dare you?”
“A Samurai ain’t afraid of nothing, not even Fat,” I snuggest.
“You have went strickly against my orders,” she guggle. “It were a delicious meal. Yet I must punish you for your impertinence. How much wages I owe you?”
“$5,” I acknowledge.
“Here are $15,” she explode. “$5 for your disobedience & $10 for your talents. Henceforward you are fired.”
“I was never more affectionately discharged in all my experience,” I absolve while putting on hat & coat. “While I am vacant from this job would you please hire my Cousin Nogi, who is also intelligent?”
“If he are a good cook, send him around,” she greet while I depart feeling like my brain was on backwards.
Hoping you are the sameYours trulyHashimura Togo.