"I think it highly unbecoming," said the tea-kettle, which was the kitchen singer, and half-sister to the tea-urn, "that such a foreign bird should be listened to! Is it patriotic? I will let the coal-box judge."
"It only vexes me," said the coal-box; "it vexes me so much, that no one can think! Is this a proper way to spend an evening? Would it not be much better to put the house to rights? Every one go to his place, and I will rule; that will produce a change!"
"Yes, let us do something out of the common way!" said all the things together.
At that very moment the door opened. It was the servant-girl, and so they all stood stock still; not a sound was heard; but there was not a pot among them that did not know what they might have done, and how genteel they were.
"If I might have had my way," thought they, "then it would have been a regularly merry evening!"
The servant-girl took the brimstone matches, and put fire to them. Bless us! how they sputtered and burst into a flame!
"Now every one can see," thought they, "that we take the first rank! What splendor we have! what brilliancy!"—and with that they were burnt out.