IX WASHING WINDOWS

To Editor Woman’s Page whose mind is glass which shoots daylight into Subjects.

Dear Sir:—

Until quite recently of yore I remained in the suburbs of Pennsylvania at home of Mrs Nero Fits Gibb, where I stayed as long as I did.

It was because of windows that I was exploded off from that lovely situation of employment. Next job of work I shall hitch myself to some house which do not contain any of those glass encumbents.

I tell you this narrative.

That Hon. Mrs Fits Gibb reside in one large mahogany house containing sifficient windows to see everything through. Bay windows occur at moments when least expected; skylights peep from roof with expression peculiar to pair of spectacles. That house has got windows all over its face from its chin to its forehead, and every door are confused by glass stained brightly to resemble colours.

“Togo,” explan Hon. Mrs to me, “I are very fond of fresh daylight.”

“You have caged nearly all there is,” I corrode for politeness while gazing at 13 doz. windows surrounding.

“When doing nothing,” she explan, “it shall be your duty to wash them windows with careful soap. This will make them more light.”

“I am hired for light work,” I suggest. “What are most scientific way to bathe these glass eyes of your home?”

“Most artistic window-wash can be obtained with a ladder and a bucket,” she deploy. “Also rags must be used including soap and gymnastics. Take these materials to window requiring cleanliness and rub until exhausted. Continue this massage on next window and therefore on. Industry must be had. Do not abandon a pain of glass until he shine with brilliancy resembling genius.”

So I go do what she say. I got ladder, I obcured rags, I obtained sudds bucket according to orders Hon. Mrs Fits Gibb gave me. So farly so goodly.

Grasping ladder on my shoulder with military expression I walk around Hon. House to pick out one window what appear good natured & easy. More I looked less I could decide. That Hon. House continue to gaze at me sternly like one octopus with 1000 glass eyes. At lastly I find one pompus bay window what set over front door presenting swelled appearance peculiar to Presidents.

I look thoughtfully upwards and make philosophy by myself.

“Window-wash are like Success,” I commute. “It are most pleasant to begin at the top and work downward. Therefore I shall begin by soaping this important outlook.”

So I amount up ladder with Hon. Bucket inclosed in my knuckles and numberous rags embraced by my suspenders. Uply and more uply I march until I was there looking Hon. Window in the face. So I begin to wash him.

Mr Editor, the simplest things in life seems the most simplest when they are not. Do it not seem easy to your educational brain for a Japanese Schoolboy to carry sudds up ladder and apply him to window pain by rubs of rag? And yet such work are full of complex.

No sooner I begin attacking this job than I dishcover how Hon. Window Wash must be like a juggle in a circus. To obtain myself on that ladder I must clasp my toes with carefulness resembling stork, at same time I must balance Hon. Bucket by elbow, hold Hon. Rags in teeth and splatter Hon. Window with what fingers I had left. In the meanwhile, what was Hon. Soap doing? When he got wet his nature changed and he imagined he was a snake. He would not stay where he was, but amuse himself by slipping off from everywheres I put him. Every time he fall, I must dutifully ascend down that ladder, pick him from grass, carefully descend upwards again and attempt to hang him somewheres where he would not make an eel of himself. I never seen soap so full of slyness.

And yet I work onwards in spite of him. With delicious accuracy I threw sudds on Hon. Window till he seem to weep tears. Then I wipe him elaborously with rag. Yet more I wipe, less beautiful he appear. Greyness cover him with streaks. More rubbs. Stripes of smudge confuse that glass. More lather I put on. Yet Hon. Window continue to look dull & bilious. I massage him up and down with greased elbow until it was nearly sunset of p. m. O discouraged! If diamonds is so hard to polish, I are not surprised that nobody but policemen can afford such jewelery.

Pretty soonly I could hear voice of Hon. Mrs saluting me crossly from below down.

“Togo,” she report, “you have been 2 hours in labour of work. How many windows have you bathed completely?”

“Nearly one,” I corrode boastfully.

“If it take you 2 hours to wash nearly one window, how long would it take you to cleansify 211 glass pains in this house?” This arithmatic from her.

“422 hours,” I reject brightly. “If you will loaned me paper & pencill, I shall be happy to estimate how many weeks that makes.”

“Xmas will arrive before then,” she agnosticate with bang of door.

I could not understood her repartee. Maybe she intend to give me Xmas present.

When fatigue was too plenty for more exercise I stand on climax of that ladder holding sudds bucket in thoughtful position. Great thoughts can be obtained in such high altitudes, thusly perched with excelsior feeling of brain. Leaning against glass forehead of that bay window I could observe Nature acting as usual amidst houses where residences was. Walking amongst those houses I could observe bill collectors, insurance agents and neighbours—which show that Trouble come wherever folks resides. “Life are similar to such scenery,” I say for smart quotation.

While thusly I argued, some ottomobile wheels could be heard walking below in front of house. I look downly and observe very fashionable appearance of society—one bloated gas-machinery stopping up near feet of ladder while one complete lady enwrapped in Arctic mouse-skins fur sat there talking Waldorf language to a chauffer of military pattern. I could tell she was 400 by actual count.

“Hennery,” she say to Hon. Chauffer, “ring door and pronounce that Mrs. Diggle Clodd have arrived for slight calling visit on Mrs. Fits Gibb.”

“I do so!” This from Hon. Hennery.

While Hon. Hennery was making rings by door, I lean from ladder and observe the elegance of that financial lady as she flopped amidst coloured padding and showed the splandid millinary of her hat.

Great excitement by me. She were not beautiful as ladies go—and some ladies goes considerable. Her hair was red like a blushing brick and her face seem too wealthy to agree with anybody. Yet I was enraptured to be standing above so much money.

I perch on ladder to imitate birds. Pretty soonly Hon. Hennery, containing expensive boots, report back.

“Hon. Mrs. Gibbs are here where she is,” he acknowledge while opening ottomobile door so Hon. Lady could alight down richly. Queens act thusly when getting out of ships. I could observe the fluttering ostriches on top of her millinary head. How expensive to estimate!

When she was snuggling forth in direction of front door, I must lean very crooked backwards for see what was. I could not tell how it happen, but when leastly expected—O knock! Hon. Soap slyly slip forth from window-sill where he was setting and flop to hat of Mrs. Diggle Clodd!!! Great mixture of plumage ensued while feathers drop with confusion resembling 2 roosters fighting in a cyclone.

“Oh Hennery! Look upwards and see what!” she shreech.

Hennery do so, and while thusly he gazed my elbow disjoint himself and O swash!!! That suds bucket flop forwards & spill 2 complete gals soap-water on top of his elegance.

He show bitter expression peculiar to persons standing under Niagara.

“Who do it?” holla Hon. Hennery & Hon. Mrs.

“I no do it!” were lawyer reply for me. “Hon. Bucket must be guilty.”

“Are you not manager for that bucket?” require Hon. Hennery.

“How could I tell when he is going to shoot?” I narrate.

“Hennery!!” she gubble, “elope up ladder and pluck that impertinence down!”

Mr. Editor, I are a tame Japanese, yet when I observe gentleman in uniform descending up ladder with warfare expression, all the Port Arthur of my nationality come out.

“Hara kiri!” I acknowledge to Hon. Chauffer while shooting remnants of sudds-water straight at his profile. He look very bathhouse—yet he still continue to approach.

“When I obtain you—” he pronounce, making a grab to heel.

“When you get me I shall be elsewhere,” I defy. Thusly speaking I leap into the face of that bay window and arrive inside of bedroom with loudy crashes. Somebody below-stairs yell, “Burglar!”—but I knew I could not be a burglar and be so noisy. Hon. Hennery continue to approach up ladder. In anxious escape I jump over 11 chairs, 2½ beds with numerous etcetera.

In a soon moment I could observe wet headware of Hon. Hennery encroaching through window where he enter with rebound. I make talented dodge to hallway where I bang door & lock him, thus encircling Hon. Chauffer with his wrath.

Below downstairs I could hear Hon. Mrs Clodd talking mustard to Hon. Mrs Gibb. I could hear angry voices walking upstairs.

If I lost any time I must do so quickly. I trot backwards down hall. From window in rearward bedroom I seen one porch-escape from which I flew like aeroplanes. I make down shoot to ground while Hon. Mrs. holla from window.

“Togo,” she yall, “you are requested never to look into my house again!”

“Those residing in a houseful of windows should look out for themselves,” I nudge back walking away in sections.

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