This was down another short flight of steps, and over a bridge spanning the race, which deep, dark watercourse immediately caught Amy's attention.
"How smooth and swift it looks; and so black. Isn't that man afraid to stand there?" indicating a workman stationed upon the sluice gate, engaged in the endless task of raking fallen leaves away from the rack.
"Oh, no! not afraid! The work is monotonous, but it must be done, or there'll be the mischief to pay. Now, here are the fires."
A soot-grimed man approached the door of the furnace room, and respectfully touched his forehead to his superior, then glanced toward Amy.
"I'm afeared the little lady will soil her pretty frock," he remarked, with another pull at his forelock.
"Thank you for thinking of it. I'll try to be careful," she answered, tiptoeing across the earthen floor, to stoop and peer into the roaring furnaces. "I should be afraid it would burn the whole place up. How hot it is! Is it all right?"
"Yes; they're doing prime to-day. We takes care of the danger, miss. But hot? Well, you should ought to be here about midsummer, say. Ah! this isn't bad, is it, boss?"
"Very comfortable. You like your job, eh, Ben?"
"Sure; it's a good one. Steady, an' wages regular. Good day, miss, you're welcome, I'm sure," he concluded, as she thanked him again for opening the furnace doors and explaining how it was he managed the great fires.
"Now, the engine room; to see the object of all that heat," said Mr. Metcalf.