said the master-mason, after
long contemplating it in silence, "a most remarkable structure, sir."

"Yes," said I complacently, "every one says so."

"But large as it appears above the roof, I would not have inferred the
magnitude of this foundation, sir," eyeing it critically.

Then taking out his rule, he measured it.

"Twelve feet square; one hundred and forty-four square feet! Sir, this
house would appear to have been built simply for the accommodation of
your chimney."

"Yes, my chimney and me. Tell me candidly, now," I added, "would you
have such a famous chimney abolished?"

"I wouldn't have it in a house of mine, sir, for a gift," was the
reply. "It's a losing affair altogether, sir. Do you know, sir, that
in retaining this chimney, you are losing, not only one hundred and
forty-four square feet of good ground, but likewise a considerable
interest upon a considerable principal?"

"How?"

"Look, sir!" said he, taking a bit of red chalk from his pocket, and
figuring against a whitewashed wall, "twenty times eight is so and so;
then forty-two times thirty--nine is so and so--ain't it, sir? Well,
add those together, and subtract this here, then that makes so and so,"
still chalking away.

To be brief, after no small ciphering, Mr. Scribe informed me that
my chimney contained, I am ashamed to say how many thousand and odd
valuable bricks.

"No more," said I fidgeting. "Pray now, let us have a look above."

In that upper zone we made two more circumnavigations for the first and
second floors. That done, we stood together at the foot of the stairway
by the front door; my hand upon the knob, and Mr. Scribe hat in hand.

"Well, sir," said he, a sort of feeling his way, and, to help himself,
fumbling with his hat, "well, sir, I think it can be done."

"What, pray, Mr. Scribe; WHAT can be done?"

"Your chimney, sir; it can without rashness be removed, I think."

"I will think of it, too, Mr. Scribe," said I, turning the knob and
bowing him towards the open space without, "I will THINK of it, sir; it
demands consideration; much obliged to ye; good morning, Mr. Scribe."

"It is all arranged, then," cried my wife with great glee, bursting from
the nighest room.

"When will they begin?" demanded my daughter Julia.

"To-morrow?" asked Anna.

"Patience, patience, my dears," said I, "such a big chimney is not to be
abolished in a minute."

Next morning it began again.

"You remember the chimney," said m