For happiness without alloy
Give me the Crystal Palace!"
A.A.M.
COAL-DUST.
"Had a good day?" said Frederic cheerily, stamping the snow off his boots as I met him at the front-door.
"That depends," I said, "on what you call a good day."
"You haven't been dull?" said Frederic.
"Oh, no," I said, indicating the comforting blaze as I pushed Frederic's chair to the fire; "behold the result of my day's labours in your behalf. Your hot bath and hot breakfast, dear, were just camouflage to keep from you, the centre of gravity, our desperate straits. When I went to give Cook her orders this morning I found her as black as a sweep and in a mood to correspond. She pointed to a few lumps of coal in the kitchen scuttle and said, 'I've sifted all that dust in the cellar, Ma'am, and these are the only lumps I could find. There's only enough to cook one more dinner.'"
"My dear girl," said Frederic, "why wait till there is no coal before ordering more?"