“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. “$19.82 extra subtracted from your wages!” she holla arithmatically. No intelligent reply from me. Hon. Mrs Moon spend morning in attic opening reverend trunks and fetching forth quilts & skirts belonging to Pilgrims. These I also pin to clothes-line. Nextly I brosh wall-paper with whisk and climb to roof where I save a white cat which had crolled up drain-pipe to suicide himself. I receive no extra pay for this kindness. While doing thusly I burst $27 worth of windows and bill was sent to me by Mrs Moon who holla how much it was. I carry 6 tons complete books from cellar to library on 3rd floor. When I find they no belong there I took them back again. I also transmit considerable bags containing coal from woodshed to basement where it look more comfortable. Very sorry event occurred when I was washing 48 eggs shell china cups. Shelf of table upturned and all splatter to floor. Mrs Moon screech and charge it to my account. After that I paint back porch, carry sideboards, croll over all ceilings of rooms to fish away cobwebs with broom and stuff upholstery into all lounges what need it. Mrs Moon were a very thoughtful woman. She always thought of something more for me to do with arms and legs. When I was on top-ladder dusting chandeliers she suddenly remember her mother’s fire-screen she had not seen since Agnes was married. “Go down cellar and open 11 boxes containing trash and see if mother’s fire-screen ain’t there.” I do so. It were not. “Nail them up again quickly,” she comment. “Then go to roof and sweep out chimbley.” I elevated myself to loftly position and stood poking smok-tracks from chimbley. Just then she holla, “Come down 1st floor, please, and ade me in removing tables upstairs.” I do so wishing I was a bird and could fly up and down with less feetsteps. By that time Hon. Sun were setting and I feel like doing the same. So I choose soft chair in back yard and soothe myself by flopping to it. There I reposed amidst rags, rugs, brooms, portraits, paints and other cleanly dirt. “Why you set there so worklessly?” she require, seeing me with eagle expression. “I have moved so much that I am now moveless,” I reply with great pathos. She make her eyes look kind and charity.