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THE ADVENTURES
OF
FATTY LEWIS
By
Arthur
Killick
Copyright,
1915, by A. F.
Killick and W.
P. Harvey |
THE
SERVANT PROBLEM.
"I
wouldn't mind dying if I
thought I'd bump into
Robinson Crusoe and his
man Friday long enough
to tell 'em what I think
of 'em," Fatty Lewis
declared.
"What did they do?"
Hurrah Smith innocently
inquired.
"They didn't do nothing,
I guess," Lewis replied.
"Nothing but spill the
beans, upset the
inkwell, scramble the
eggs and track up the
floor.
"Who was the first guy
ever had a servant?"
Lewis continued.
"Search me," Hurrah
answered. "Was it
Crusoe?"
"He's the first one I
ever heard of," Lewis
replied.
"Everybody had gotten
over the panic about Eve
eating the apple and the
cancellation of all
rights to homestead
Eden. Women were
doing their regular
washings on Monday,
weather permitting.
Everyone baking their
own bread.
Manicurists, chauffeurs,
butlers, hairdressers,
ladies' tailors,
milliners and other
vacuum cleaners never
were heard of.
Along comes Crusoe.
Shipwreck. Bingo!
And the whole solar
system is shot to
pieces.
"Crusoe loves the
island. Eleven
long years elapse.
No relatives. No
mother-in-law. Not
taxes nor bills from the
tailor. He finds a
footprint. Along
comes Friday. The
story should have ended
right there.
Friday had been a
cannibal up to the time
he found Robby.
He'd gone as long as an
Arctic explorer without
fresh meat.
Lonesomeness of the
island had began to
pall. Talking to
squirrels and bluejays
was getting his nerves.
Instead of making a
mulligan out of Crusoe
-- adding pepper and
salt to suit taste --
Friday pined for human
companionship.
"Friday tears down the
'No Hunting and Fishing
on These Premises and
Trespassers Will Be
Prosecuted' signs.
Right away he heats some
water and holds the
glass while Crusoe
shaves. Robby
decides that Friday is a
simp. After final
instructions for Friday
to stay awake and swat
the mosquitoes, Crusoe
left a call for 9:30,
ordered his eggs poached
for breakfast and
retired for the night.
When Friday died the
last of the obedient
servants was gone.
You got no more chance
to find Friday at the
present time than you
have to find the guy
that used to pour his
coffee in a saucer and
blow it to cool."
"And what's all this got
to do with you?" Hurrah
inquired. "You
ain't got no Friday,
have you?"
"I should say I ain't,"
Lewis replied.
"I've got a female Simon
Legree. And take
it from me she's sicking
the bloodhounds on you
all the time. I
never saw a militant
suffragist, and if
they're worse than this
bird I don't choose to
see one."

" 'You're the one to
furnish references,' she
declared. 'How do
I know that your family
is a fit place for me to
work?"
"What's she do?" Hurrah
inquired.
"I'd imagine murder was
her specialty if it was
brutal enough," Lewis
said, "but I'm sure that
would be too mild.
She's bulldozed me until
I am as tame as a
performing bear.
She's kept the kid in
the cellar for three
days and made Mrs. Lewis
resign from both her
card and embroidery
clubs.
" 'I'm not to be
bothered with a lot of
extra company,' she told
Mrs. Lewis. 'It's
all I can do to wait on
your regular family
without you bringing in
a lot of outsiders to
muss up the place.' "
"Right there's where I'd
tacked on the hardware,"
Hurrah declared.
"You'd get fat firing
this Amazon," Lewis
replied. "I've
canned her seven times,
but it didn't take.
I'm trying to get her
sore enough to make her
quit. She pays
about as much attention
to me as a non-resident
would to a notice from
the delinquent tax
collector.
"I ain't got on one to
blame but myself," Lewis
admitted. "When I
asked her for references
she bawled me something
fierce.
" 'You're the one to
furnish references,' she
declared. 'How do
I know your family is a
fit place for me to
work?'
"If I'd been half bright
I'd known right there
was someone to duck,"
Lewis said. "But
she was so fresh I
thought I'd hire her and
take a few reefs in her
sails.
"That was my last chance
right there. As
soon as Nervine landed
in the old homestead she
issued a new timecard,
and drafted some
different by-laws.
"She refused to fry
onions, no washing and
ironing, one afternoon
and a night off each
week -- subject to
change without notice,
would not tend the
children or call the
neighbors to the
telephone. This
hen sure is a czar.
Instead of waiting on us
we're performing for
her.
"The other morning she
called me once for
breakfast. Mrs.
Lewis calls me from
three to five times.
I didn't care to engage
in another Battle of the
Wilderness with General
Weyler, so I hurried up
and hustled downstairs.
" 'Whadda you think this
is?' she says to me, 'a
short order restaurant?
If you think I'm going
to stand over this hot
stove all day, you're
crazy.' "
"What did you do?" Smith
asked.
"What could I do?" Lewis
replied. "I
ordered a hole cut in
the ceiling and I'm
going to have 'em put in
one of those brass
sliding poles like
they've got in the fire
departments. I'm
going to get to
breakfast on time."
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