“To-day we shall commence housecleaning,” she report last Fryday a. m.
“Commence it!” I communicate crossly like Napoleon. “When did we ever discontinue to houseclean?”
“Ah ho!” she laugh at. “What you has been doing is merely lick-and-promise. Housecleaning are different. To houseclean you must pull down everything that is up and pull up everything that is down. Home must be carried out into the back yard and throughly swep. All dust in house must be shoved out onto carpets which are on clothesline; then all carpets on clothesline must be brutably punished with clubs until dust fly back into house. And so on until exhausted.”
I could not disobey such wise demand. So I remove off coat and commence eloping up & down stair, each time carrying some variety of pianos and mahogany dresser. My suspenders bulged with gigantic strength while Hon. Mrs Moon stood near and explained how I was more weak than Irish labour.
That house were completely filled with break-a-brack and other dishes which had been shot full of holes by mean British in Battle of Revolution which occurred in 1492. There was many plates & cups, beautiful but very lame. I drop several of these in removal, and they look more broke than usual. Several of them fell down stairs ahead of me and arrived with considerable crashes.
“I estimate my loss at $580 which must be removed from your wages,” Mrs Moon say-so while she stood mourning over those fractured relicks.
I reply by saying nothing.
I rip up carpets with strength peculiar to a giant full of steam. I throw him on clothesline and trott backwards for more. I bathe Mr Moon’s painted ancesters with soap-wash till they look nearly handsome. I polish floors, door, silver & hardwear with continuous rapidity. I wash stove with sudds and clean 14 pairs gloves with gasolene.
Then another breakage occur which were too bad. I was smoothing one snobbish-looking china-closet with rags, when I axidentally broke him endwise by dropping out of window. Mrs. Moon could not help from noticing.