“That one with the glass doors is for preserves, and the place in the other corner that has a fence for its two inside walls is a place for cleaning silver and shoes and lamps and brasses. See—there are cupboards along the inside of the fence. They hold all the cleaning materials, and the cleaner can sit in a swing chair in the middle and use a different part of the concrete shelf against the two cellar walls for boots or fire-irons or knives and forks or lamps. At one end is a sink so he can have what water he needs for his work and he can wash his hands when he turns from one kind of cleaning to another.”
“And he isn’t all smothered up in a small room. Who thought of that?”
“Patrick and I worked that out together. Patrick has lots of ingenuity.”
“I should say you had, too!” exclaimed Della, admiringly.
“Here’s where Dorothy does her carpentering,” cried James.
“I may move that bench up in the attic later,” explained Dorothy, “but I thought I’d leave it here until the house was done, because there are apt to be little things to be hammered and nailed for some time, I suppose.”
“How long are you going to be before you fikth a plathe for Chrithopher Columbuth?” demanded Dicky, whose patience was entirely exhausted.
“We’ll make him happy right here and now,” answered Dorothy briskly, throwing open the door of the laundry.
The sun shone gayly on the concrete floor and the room was a cheerful spot. An electric washing machine stood ready although covered tubs were built against the wall for use in emergencies, and at one side was a drying closet. There were numerous plugs against the wall for the attachment of pressing irons.
“What’s this?” asked Ethel Brown, lifting a cover of a hopper at the base of a chute.