I THE HON. VACUUM WHO CLEANS THINGS

To Editor Woman’s Page who make bright talk on dusty subjects.

Dear Sir:

I have just abandoned the home of Mrs. Hirem B. Bellus, Trenton, N. J., where I was. I shall describe circumstances, showing how I quit it.

This Mrs. Bellus, 211 lbs. sweethearted lady complete with curly-puff hair, employ me for do Gen. Housework, price $4.50 weekly payment. This are too less money, but she tell me small pay for small Japanese are entirely satisfactory. Satisfactory to who? I ask it. No reply from her.

“Are you an intelligent duster?” are first question for her.

“Japanese dusters is more intellectual than Turkey dusters,” I snop back. “I am acquainted with the habits of dirt and how to kill him. I am an experienced soaper and a fearless rubb. Therefore, you hire me.”

“Have you ever cleaned with a Vacuum?” she ask to know.

My soul was exhausted to answer this peculiarity.

“I never met him,” I acknowledge.

“How could I hire servant girl not familiar with this form of art?” she require peevly. “Vacuum cleaning are most delightful sport of home life to-day. It are enjoyed even in the farthest suburbs of the Universe, and yet you ignore it!”

“Ah, Mrs. Boss Lady,” I pledge with pathos, “do not fire me before hiring takes place! Try my sagacity. I shall learn to wrastle with this Vacuum you told about until you are proud to know me.”

So she took me to store room and introduce me to Hon. Vacuum.

The Hon. Vacuum that cleans, Mr. Editor, are like an ingrowing garden hose. He can inhale forever without coughing outwards. He are a species of mechanical snake whose breath always travels toward his tail. To use him, following directions must be did:

1—Screw tail of Hon. Vacuum to sprocket in wall.

2—Button the electricity and see what happen.

3—You will hear a sound. It will resemble moan of puppy cats aggravated by Winter blowing cyclones among ghosts. I cannot hear that Vacuum noise without feeling of lonesome poetry.

4—Hon. Vacuum begin to act disturbed. That are sign he want to eat dust.

5—Find some dust. Lead Hon. Vacuum to this and say, “Sick him!” Snorts! Hon. Dust will jump to nowhere while Hon. Vacuum howell for more food.

What are this Hon. Vacuum, anyhows? Hon. Dictionary Book say “Vacuum are Nothing.” How could Mr. Danl Webster speak such untruth by his Dictionary? Vacuum cannot be Nothing and yet make so much noises.

This intellectual Vacuum machinery resemble ostriches in what they eat. He delight to sip up tacks, needles, buttons and other hard groceries. He appreciate small wad of paper occasionally, but when I attempt feed him entire newspaper he hold it firmly against his nose, but refuse to go furthermore. I should like a photo of his digestion.

Mrs. Bellus, who are a wonderfully housekept lady, admire this Vacuum more than any of her relatives.

“I hate Dust,” she proclaim to me.

“Why should it?” I require. “Nearly all Earth are composed of this delicious powder. Mexico, Sahara Desert & Jersey City is built on dust and enjoys it continuously. Entire Italian army fight to get Tripoli, which are nothing but dust inhabited by Mohammed.”

“They are welcome to get it,” she snib. “With a regiment of Vacuum Cleaners led by Gen. Housekeeping I could wipe both armies off from Morocco and make it fit to sleep in.”

I am shocked by her cleanliness. Yet I ask to know one question.

“Mrs. Madam,” I reproach, “tell me this reply. When Hon. Vacuum supp up dust from this carpet, to where do it go to?”

She indicate Heaven with her thumb.

“Up there is grand blow-away hole which shoo it off,” she answer it.

So I continue on absorbing hairpins, string and other germs through that succulent machinery.

No lady I work for are equally balanced in their manias. Some are crazed about houseflies; cookery seem to make others continuously het-up; others seem to reverberate with pain when mentioning clothes-starch. This Mrs. Hirem B. Bellus was especially hobbed on that Vacuum Cleanliness. She could forgive all other crimes, no matter if I brought in beefstake too much charcoaled around edges. It no matter if I too sluggish with my feet to answer door when it bells. It no matter if I make outrageous beds or knock gentle glasswear in hard sink. She forgive. But she was deliciously disgusted if Hon. Vacuum was not mourning & howelling all day long while Togo poke its nose around among rugs & other brick-brack.

Her husband disagree from this.

“Togo’s biscuits fill my teeth with hatred while his coffee show contemptible weakness,” Hon. Bellus dib for breakfast.

“Perhapsly,” refute Hon. Mrs., “yet he are one of the best Vacuum Engineers I ever hired.”

“I cannot eat a Vacuum,” reject that Husband-man, with hat-in-the-ring expression.

“I are not responsible for your animal hungers,” corrode this Wife while she arose and gently order me to take Hon. Vacuum down cellar for vacate 2 coal-bins and a ashbarrel.

I retained this situation of jobs for six complete days’ work. All day long I go around house dragging hose like a fireman. I got that intelligent Vacuum so trained that he could do tricks of extreme cuteness. He could coax shoe-buttons entirely across room by his talented suction, and when they got up to his nose—gubble! They disappear to zero. He loved to catch flies by breathing them inwards; and once he attempt to withdraw Mrs. Bellus’ weak canary bird from cage. Which he not quite did, but too nearly.

So I continue on practicing this suctionary job; and I got so smart from it that I was preparing to request Hon. Mrs. for more wage of salary, when some unpleasantness exploded. I sorry to tell you.

Last Tuesday Hon. Mrs. Hirem B. Bellus come to me and say with gloves & hat:

“I go for lunching at Aunt Maria Stewart whose great wealth includes asthma and make her disagreeable but necessary. Be faithful with your Vacuum while I are away.”

I promus her.

“Grocer man will be here this p. m. for collect bill,” she corrode with indignation peculiar to debts. “Here are 20$ banknote for payment. I owe him 26$. Tell him to keep the change.”

So she part off, leaving me that 20$ paper of extreme value. Mr. Editor, it make me nervus to be alone with great wealth. Sipposing some burglary should come by window? Sipposing my dishonest instinct should fly up and make me skip Canada with cash-money?

Yet I was entirely faithful by that 20$. I took him and fold him to smallish wad, then I lay him carefully in crack of sofa where burglars could not see, yet I could not forget where was. Hon. Vacuum stood near purring softly while I done this. Who could expect what shall be?

Me & Hon. Vacuum continue our vacuous task, making kick-back of dust wherever was. I run him over rugs so oftenly that he pull holes from them. I make him sniff all cobble-webs from the pictures & poke his nose into each corner where was. We was very friendly, me & Vacuum.

I continue to vac. After Hon. Vacuum had sniffed off all wall paper, sideboard, etc., I remember how upholsterish chairs & sofas must be cured of germs also, so I vacuate these velvet upholsters. I was doing very nicely, thank you, when, of suddenly, I point nose of Hon. Vacuum to sofa where that 20$ bill was setting tightly. Yet no financial panics came to me until—O FRIGHTS!! That 20$ bill begin hopping toward Hon. Vacuum’s nose with hypnofied expression peculiar to birds when eaten by charming snakes!

I make snatch for money—alast! I was too late in beginning. Hon. Bill make leap to nose of Hon. Vacuum—gollup! Down long, thin throat of this machinery that wealthy cash was swallowed. I try to choke him so he give it back,—but useless it was. That cash-paper had flipped into his interior digestion before Jack Robinson could say it.

So I unbotton electricity and look down Hon. Vacuum with considerable angry rage. What had he did with my trustful money? O how my indignation jump up! How could this mechanical snake treat me so trickful after I had chaperoned him and fed him dust for several complete days? I shook him with grand cruelty in hopes to make him cough back that wealth of Mrs. Hirem B. Bellus. He remain entirely bulldoggish with that bill clasped somewheres inside.

Then I remember how Mrs. Bellus had told me how trash suctioned away by Hon. Vacuum was blowed high-ward through hole in roof. Maybe I should catch that 20$ yet before he got out! So with immediate quickness I got top-ladder & clomb to roof where I dishcover hole. Yet it was entirely penniless. Now & occasionally slight spurt of dust blow from hole; sometimes one shoe-button would popp out from where Hon. Vacuum had kicked him. Yet that hole remain like a bursted bank, refusing to surrender money.

Afar off in direction of Pennsylvania I could observe slight dusty expression of sky. I feel sure that was Mrs. Bellus’ money travelling West.

Enjoying great discouragements I got down from that roofly seat and wrote following telegram to Mrs. Bellus before walking farewell:

“Togo is resigned. Hon. Vacuum blow your 20$. So sorry to say. The unexpected often happen, so you may get this money back, as I do not see how you ever can. When last seen it was going to Pennsylvania where I shall be there to catch it if he fall down and send back by P. O. delivery.”

When I wrote this telegram I pin him to kitchen door and walk rapidly away with expression of one going West and expecting to arrive there. And while travelling I think of one wise quotation: “Nature abhors a Vacuum.” I am agreeable to Nature in this.

Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.