“When doing nothing,” she explan, “it shall be your duty to wash them windows with careful soap. This will make them more light.”
“I am hired for light work,” I suggest. “What are most scientific way to bathe these glass eyes of your home?”
“Most artistic window-wash can be obtained with a ladder and a bucket,” she deploy. “Also rags must be used including soap and gymnastics. Take these materials to window requiring cleanliness and rub until exhausted. Continue this massage on next window and therefore on. Industry must be had. Do not abandon a pain of glass until he shine with brilliancy resembling genius.”
So I go do what she say. I got ladder, I obcured rags, I obtained sudds bucket according to orders Hon. Mrs Fits Gibb gave me. So farly so goodly.
Grasping ladder on my shoulder with military expression I walk around Hon. House to pick out one window what appear good natured & easy. More I looked less I could decide. That Hon. House continue to gaze at me sternly like one octopus with 1000 glass eyes. At lastly I find one pompus bay window what set over front door presenting swelled appearance peculiar to Presidents.
I look thoughtfully upwards and make philosophy by myself.
“Window-wash are like Success,” I commute. “It are most pleasant to begin at the top and work downward. Therefore I shall begin by soaping this important outlook.”
So I amount up ladder with Hon. Bucket inclosed in my knuckles and numberous rags embraced by my suspenders. Uply and more uply I march until I was there looking Hon. Window in the face. So I begin to wash him.
Mr Editor, the simplest things in life seems the most simplest when they are not. Do it not seem easy to your educational brain for a Japanese Schoolboy to carry sudds up ladder and apply him to window pain by rubs of rag? And yet such work are full of complex.
No sooner I begin attacking this job than I dishcover how Hon. Window Wash must be like a juggle in a circus. To obtain myself on that ladder I must clasp my toes with carefulness resembling stork, at same time I must balance Hon. Bucket by elbow, hold Hon. Rags in teeth and splatter Hon. Window with what fingers I had left. In the meanwhile, what was Hon. Soap doing? When he got wet his nature changed and he imagined he was a snake. He would not stay where he was, but amuse himself by slipping off from everywheres I put him. Every time he fall, I must dutifully ascend down that ladder, pick him from grass, carefully descend upwards again and attempt to hang him somewheres where he would not make an eel of himself. I never seen soap so full of slyness.