velty, the men took easily to the swaying, sagging
bridge. They passed over the baffled grass, the leader carrying another
short ladder which he hung from the roof, stabbing its lower rungs down
into the matted verdure below. The crossing was made with such
insouciance the wonder was they hadnt done it at first, instead of
wasting time on other expedients.

The firemen went down the vertical ladder and forced an entrance into
the choked windows. Mrs Dinkman came out first, helped by two of them.
She kept pinching her glasses into place with one hand and pulling her
skirt modestly close with the other, activities leaving her very little
to grasp the ladder with. The firemen seemed quite accustomed to this
sort of irrationality, and paying no heed to the rush of
words--inaudible to us on the street--bursting from her, they coaxed her
expertly up onto the roof. Here she stood, statuesquely outlined against
the bright sky, berating her succorers, until Mr Dinkman, rounded, bald,
and calm, joined her.

At first Mrs Dinkman refused to try the bridge to the street, but after
some urging which was conveyed to us by the gestures of the firemen, she
ventured gingerly on the trembling ladders only to draw back quickly.
One of the firemen demonstrated the ease and simplicity of the journey,
but it was vain; Mrs Dinkman was carried across gallantly in traditional
movie style, with Mr Dinkman and the crew following sedately behind.

"A crime," Mrs Dinkman was saying when she came within earshot. "A
crime. Malicious mischief. Ought to be locked up for life."

"Don't upset yourself, my dear," urged Mr Dinkman. "It's very
distressing, but afterall it might be worse."

"'Worse'! Adam Dinkman, has misfortune completely unhinged your mind?
Money thrown in the gutter--imposed on by oily rascals--our house
swallowed up by this ... this unnatural stuff--and the final humiliation
of being pulled out of our own home in front of a gawking crowd." She
turned around and shouted, "Shoo, shoo--why don't you go home?" And then
to Mr Dinkman again, "'Worse' indeed! I'd like to know what could be
worse?"

"Well now--" began Mr Dinkman; but I didnt hear the rest, for I was
afraid by "rascals" Mrs Dinkman referred, quite unjustly, to me and I
thought the time opportune to remind Gootes he hadnt yet completed his
assignment.

"Right," he agreed, suddenly assuming the abrupt accents of an
improbable Englishman, "oh very right, old chap. Let's toddl