"On ages ago. You may see if it is boiling."
"How can an iron kettle boil? If you'll tell me that."
"Why, the water boils that is in it. The kettle is put for the water."
"And what right have you to put the kettle for the water? At that rate, one might do all sorts of things—Now Pink, how can I tell if the water boils? The steam is coming out of the nose."
"That's no sign, Norton. Does it sing?"
"Sing!" said Norton. "I never learned kettle music. No, I don't think it does. It bubbles; the water in it I mean."
Matilda came in laughing. "No," she said, "it has stopped singing; and now it boils. The steam is coming out from under the cover. That's a sign. Now, Norton, if you like, you may make a nice plate of toast, and I'll butter it. Mr. Richmond likes toast, and he is tired to-night, I know."
"I can't make a plate," said Norton; "but I'll try for the toast. Is it good for people that are tired?"
"Anything comfortable is, Norton."
"I wouldn't be a minister!" said Norton softly, as he carefully turned and toasted the bread,—"I would not be a minister, for as much as you could give me."