The work went on bravely. Stevens set every man at work who could drive a nail, and in less than a week the building was in use. The cooking arrangement was admirable. The tables built, Too Soon’s well-stocked china closet filled and locked, and all the washing and other paraphernalia ready for use. “To-morrow,” said Mr. Stevens to his men, “lunch for fifty and over will be spread here. I expect the count will be here. Understand you are all free to act as you usually do—take your own lunches to the table, or bring nothing. A good plate of meat, with gravy and potatoes, will be furnished for six cents; a large cup of coffee for two cents; (Too Soon has already roasted it in the new oven, which works to a charm,) and bread, as much as you want, for two cents more. That makes ten cents. Too Soon will hereafter sleep here, and keep all safe. There will be water and towels provided, so that every man can make himself so presentable that any one, seeing him at table, will be surprised if he don’t eat with his fork just like a gentleman. Now I ain’t afraid of offending you. I am a workman like you, and used to eat with my knife, which was all right when we had to use a two-pronged fork, and I confess, boys, that I shall have no little pride to-morrow at this lunch.” “Boss, I guess some of us would know a silver fork if we had a good square view of it,” said one of the men. “All right,” said Stevens, laughing. “You know very well there are some people who think a workingman must be a boor, anyway. Von Frauenstein is not one of them, I promise you. On the contrary, he expects rather too much of us.” The men said nothing; but evidently they determined, each and every one, to perish rather than forget and put their knives in their mouths. This piece of policy was rather nicely managed on the part of Stevens, for there is nothing on which people, who have been deprived of refined breeding, are so sensitive as this very subject of manners. The next evening Burnham and his wife were at the Kendricks. Mrs. Burnham enquired for the count. “Oh, he’s running and driving everywhere,” said Mrs. Kendrick. “We scarcely ever see him. He apologizes, and says he don’t like to make our house a convenience; but I won’t hear of his going to a hotel, of course.” “Why, the whole town is talking of nothing but Von Frauenstein and his great workmen’s palace,” said Mrs. Burnham; “and, do you know, there are over fifty men at work already, and to-day they had a banquet. My boys were over there, and all the afternoon they’ve been dinning _Too Soon_ into my ears. He wanted to know the names of everything, and it wasn’t enough for them to tell him, but they actually helped him wipe his dishes. I’ve forbidden them to ever go there again.”