Long service can claim no reward as in England, and that is why there is not the same loyalty of the men to their employers as there; and that is why a man is always ready to leave one firm and give his work and the experience he has gained to an opposition firm, provided there are any inducements offered. However, the main thing was to get another job, and I was lucky enough to hear of one almost at once. The firm who had the soda-water concession at the fair-grounds were looking for carbonators, and were offering $3 per day; so I hastened to apply. I had not the remotest idea what the work consisted of, but in America that is not considered a bar to a man applying for any job. When I was shown into the august presence, he snapped out, “What do you want?” I replied, “Job as a carbonator.” He scribbled on a piece of paper, handed it to me, and said, “Report Monday, office electrical building,” and I was duly hired. Luckily, he was too busy to ask me for any references. The next thing was to find out what I was hired to do. So off I went to the fair-ground, and looked around till I saw some men installing a soda-fountain in one of the buildings. These I asked where I could find one of the carbonators, and, getting the desired information, I looked the man up, got into conversation, and, finding him a decent sort of fellow, proceeded to explain to him the situation, and offered him $5 if he would show me the work and teach me enough to pass inspection the Monday following. He started right in, and I spent the rest of the time with him, learning to rock the cradle, handle the gas-tanks, and watch the pressure-gauge—in fact, all the secrets of carbonating. On Monday I reported for duty, and was given a section of about a hundred tanks, which I was supposed to keep charged. The company had about two hundred soda-fountains in the grounds, and about twelve hundred tanks scattered all through the buildings. I have a natural bent for mechanics, and also great good luck, and I was soon able to carbonate with any of them. In fact, I got quite “cocky” about it, till one day my pride got a fall, and under unfortunate circumstances. The firm who had the concession were wholesale liquor dealers, and one of them who had taken a fancy to me (the reason I will explain later) would sometimes stop and talk to me if he met me on my rounds. Well, one day I was just going down into the basement of one of the buildings to charge some tanks, when he came along. So as not to delay me, he came down into the basement with me, to talk while I worked. We were in the midst of a great discussion while I happened to be screwing the cap into one of the tanks, and being so interested in the conversation I was careless, and did not notice that the cap had “cross-threaded,” and that, when I thought it tight, only about two or three threads were holding. I opened the gas-tank cock and commenced rocking, talking all the time while watching the gauge. I had almost got it to 140 lbs.