Mr. Togo: Maid of all Work

by Wallace Irwin

I promus reverendly by lifting my knuckles. So she permit me to wash her dishes.

Things happens when they shouldn’t. This is what make newspapers and other novels so pleasant to read. And so it was with me.

For 2 week times I work for this Mrs Jas Jones without any crisis arriving. She were so deliciously stingy of her Mrs Washington pitcher, cups & glasswear that she use 10c. store dishes of flat-iron thickness for daily use when her Husband & other folks she did not respect was home. So I needs not think of scientific dish-wash during them happy days. Yet I worry about Hon. Dishrag continuously, because I was afraid he might strike some germs. How could I keep him clean while washing plates with him?

So I wash plates with my rude hands and hung Hon. Dishrag to clean peg where he would not get soil. Hon. Mrs seem entirely pleasant when she see the trained-nurse appearance of that Hon. Rag. I feel sure I should last there until old age.

But one afternoon was different, Mr Editor, because Mr & Mrs Budhammer, grandfather, dog, 2 Aunts and assorted children arrive up for lunching. Add to this Mr & Mrs Jas Jones and you have considerable dish-wash for poor Togo. And what did Hon. Mrs Jones do? She arrange on table all her important dishwear for fashionable appearance. Andrew Jackson butter-platter was there; Wm Shakespeare pattern plates with golden dots; Mr Ancestor’s glasswear in cut-up shapes of aggrevated beauty—every scarce China you could imagine was set there for folks to eat so I could wash it.

Them guests was very hospitable to Mr & Mrs Jas Jones. They say them plates was so beautiful they make the food taste better than it was. They make happy conversations while Aunt Elizabeth tell about her husband who died from Rheumatism on the brains. Everybody speak of subject he like most. Hon. Mrs Jones tell mean things she could say to neighbours and Mr Budhammer describe how happy he was before marriage. Thus do social interchange make joyful friendship!

After slight coffee was drunk all rose up and eloped forthly to verandah where all could smoke amidst fancy work and tell gossip anecdotes.

But I was not invited to this. It was now my important time for dish-wash when I should show all the science of my soul with that valuable China & other cups.

I take all fashionable Ancestor dishes from table and pile to kitchen. I was deliciously skilful like a bricklayer as I stacked cup on plate etc., until I got one nice crockery mountain 6¼ feet high with Mrs Martha Washington pitcher standing top-tip of 16 glasses looking beautiful like History monument. It are remarkable how many dishes can pile on each other without falling off.