Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/779

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723
HARPER'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
723

"There! I'm glad we've got that done"

Mrs. Tarrant, reprovingly: "But, Dick, you couldn't be sure that they'd put them upside down?"

Mr. Tarrant, resignedly: "No, but you could bet on it."

A pause, during which they regard the pile of boxes with growing curiosity.

Mr. Tarrant, finally, with decision: "Well, I'm going for the top one, anyhow. We can't sit here and look at 'em all day. Got a hammer?"

Mrs. Tarrant: "No. You'll have to ask the janitor. Just call down."

Mr. Tarrant, stepping to a tube near the hall door, pressing an adjacent bell, and alternately applying his ear and mouth to the tube:

"Hello! Will you ask the janitor to lend me a hammer a minute, till mine comes? What?"

Here he puts his ear to the tube.

"Oh no, just send it up. No, not a ladder—a hammer. Hello, get that? Not a lad—Oh, hang it all," hastily putting his mouth to the tube, "I'm talking into the wall! No, that's all right—the wall's all right, I mean. I want a hammer. Wait! Wait, till I can hear you!"

He puts his ear to the wall, and listens inquiringly for several seconds. Hearing nothing, he turns away disgustedly.

"Of all fool affairs! First you bang your ear into the wall and then you talk into it!"

Mrs. Tarrant giggles, and runs hastily to open the door in answer to the ring of the janitor—a fat, cheerful man with no collar on—who enters the drawing-room, hammer in hand, and addresses them:

"You wanted a hammer, I b'lieve, Mr. Parrot. I brought it myself. Just please be careful of it: I have to be a little pertic'ler who I lend it to." He glances patronizingly around the room. "You ain't real settled yet, are you? Well, it takes time. The last parties in this apartment they come in in May, and they didn't get their things fixed to suit 'em till they left for the summer. How's that? She ordered slip-covers for all the furniture—they had grand furniture, not a plain piece of wood in the apartment—and they come two weeks after she got back in the fall! How's that? I see your picture come all right." He glances at the Madonna. "I hung it m'self, the man was so pertic'ler. He said the gentleman had give him fifty cents and he didn't want no risks. It's a fine picture, all right." Mr. Tarrant groans. "Well, if I can do anything else, just let me know, Mr. Parrot." He goes out.