“It was painted last winter,” says the Quartermaster, getting red in the face, and you see that he is stung by the impudent tone of the woman’s voice.
“Well, I want it done again, an’ I don’t want to have to come here another time to talk about it. I’m not used to dirt.”
“You can be as clean as you like, but you can’t get that done again this year.”
“Then I want a married dresser. The one I have is a bachelor one.”
“How is that?” gasps the Quartermaster. “Haven’t you been here two years? Why haven’t you told us before? Melbourne,” he calls, and a shiny black gentleman appears promptly. “Why hasn’t this lady been given a married dresser, when single ones are so scarce? She says she has only a single one. Didn’t I tell you last week to round up all the single dressers and give the married folks married ones?”
“She didn’t have room for the married one, so she said, sir,” said Melbourne. “She’s got three that she brought from the States with her, an’ she said she is tryin’ to sell ’em.”
“Take a married dresser to that lady’s house to-morrow morning at 8 o’clock. Good morning, madam.”
“I want a new garbage can, a larger ice chest and two old rockers taken away and new ones put in their place.”
“It will be impossible to make all those changes, madam. You will have to keep the rockers until later. We are short on rockers.”
“Short on rockers?” echoes the coolie-clad lady, “and you gave that thing next door two rockers, but I’m of better family than she is, and I have to go without rockers.”