p to the next
floor, by degrees? Now then!"

Armorer gave a dash and Shuey let out his muscles in a giant tug. The
elevator responded by an astonishing leap that carried them past three
or four floors!

"Stop her! stop her!" bawled Shuey; but in spite of Armorer's pulling
himself purple in the face, the elevator did not stop until it bumped
with a crash against the joists of the roof.

"Well, do you suppose we're stuck HERE?" growled Armorer.

"Well, sir, I'll try. Say, don't be exerting yourself violent. It
strikes me she's for all the world like the wimmen,--in exthremes, sir,
in exthremes! And it wouldn't be noways so pleasant to go riproaring
that gait down cellar! Slow and easy, sir, let me manage her. Hi! she's
working."

In fact, by slow degrees and much puffing, Shuey got the erratic box to
the next floor, where, disregarding Shuey's protestations that he could
"make her mind," Mr. Armorer got out, and they left the elevator to its
fate. It was a long way, through many rooms, downstairs. Shuey would
have beguiled the way by describing the rooms, but Armorer was in a
raging hurry and urged his guide over the ground. Once they were delayed
by a bundle of stuff in front of a door; and after Shuey had laboriously
rolled the great roll away, he made a misstep and tumbled over, rolling
it back, to a tittering accompaniment from the sewing-girls in the room.
But he picked himself up in perfect good temper and kicked the roll ten
yards. "Girls is silly things," said the philosopher Shuey, "but being
born that way it ain't to be expected otherwise!"

He had the friendly freedom of his class in the West. He praised Mrs.
Ellis's gymnastics, and urged Armorer to stay over a morning train and
see a "real pretty boxing match" between Mr. Lossing and himself.

"Oh, he boxes too, does he?" said Armorer.

"And why on earth would he groan-like?" wondered Shuey to himself. "He
does that, sir," he continued aloud; "didn't Mrs. Ellis ever tell you
about the time at the circus? She was there herself, with three children
she borrowed and an unreasonable gyurl, with a terrible big screech in
her and no sense. Yes, sir, Mr. Lossing he is mighty cliver with his
hands! There come a yell of 'Lion loose! lion loose!' at that circus,
just as the folks was all crowding out at the end of it, and them that
had gone into the menagerie tent came a-tumbling and howling back, and
them that was in the circus tent waiting for the concert (wh