“Did you permit Hon. Furnace to go out?”
“Ah, no, not I did!” This I say. “I watch him entire day and give you my truthful insurance he did not leave that cellar.”
“Tonight you must compel him to heat, no matter how desperado you act,” he snarrel, departing off with bang-slam.
At hearing such adjectives, angry rages filled my hair with scorn. What is so ungrateful as ingratitude? Nothing!! Had I not sat by sick-bed of Hon. Furnace, feeding him what stumach would hold? Yes! And yet this crude gentleman reproach my firemanship with coolness.
Nextly I become determined. I would compel that heater to a hotter thermometer if I cooked my soul doing so, I declare!
So I ascend down to cellar. Hon. Furnace was still there doing the same. I shook him with considerable peev, but he merely answered by winking his dull coals. Hon. Steam Gag say 18 and act like he was intending to faint away. I have read in novel-book about bravery of engineer who save his ship by burning it up for steam. I shall do similar!
I burst up kitchen table, which should burn nice because covered with happy grease. Hon. Furnace love such foods and eat him with loudly roar. Hon. Steam Gag jump forwards to 19. Afterwards I poke in oilcloth which blaze resembling July 4 and smell more so. At this sight Hon. Steam Gag leap onward to 21 and that cave where Furnace lived become quite sun-stroke. And when I fetch forth excelsior-shave quenched with kerosene, I never observed Hon. Furnace chew more satisfaction. Coal I added in hodd—when—Oh, look!!
Hon. Steam Gag had arrived at 27 and was pointing his reckless finger further up! This could not happen!!! I remember how Hon. Mrs. had cautiously warned me that Hon. Furnace would get steamed brain and explode from dementia if Hon. Gag surpass 25 lbs. Yet there he was approaching 30 with mean taxi-click!
What should heroes do with such circumstances? I thought lightning. Too much fire make too much steam, too much steam make blow-off. Therefore fire must quit at oncely. With rapid coal-scuttle I make outrush to kitchen sink where I fill him with water and make back-rush to cellar. I open mouth of Hon. Furnace, and embracing my elbows, throw water with awful strength. What did that cruel furnace reply then?
WHOOSH!!!***