Godey's Lady's Book

GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, March 1850

SHORT OF FUEL.

IT was the first week in March – a raw, blusterin day. The month had come in like a lion, giving the pleasing hope that it would go out like a lamb. f had finished my breakfast, and, having donned my overcoat, was drawing on my gloves, when my wife called to me from the dining-room, where she still sat at the table, in an earnest voice –

"Oh, I declare, I forgot to tell you that the coal was all gone. We must have more to-day."

"Coal gone!" I exclaimed. "Impossible!" " Yes. Biddy says there isn't enough to last until night."

"She must be mistaken," said I, in a positive voice. "I laid in twenty tons in October."

" 'Deed, an' there isn't the full of n coal-scuttle in the cellar," spoke out Biddy, who was in the dining-room. " I put the last in the furnace this morning."

" The furnace coal gone also?"

"Yis, indeed," replied Biddy, who, the huzzy! it was evident from her tone of voice, enjoyed my astonishment and discomfiture; "I've been using the range coal in the furnace these two weeks."

" Well, that beats all," said I, drawing off my gloves and approaching the dining-room door; "twenty tons of coal in five months! four tons a month! What have you done with it, Biddy? You never could have burned it all, if you had tried."

"I didn't ate it nor stale it!" replied Biddy, in a huff.

"But what has been done with it? I can't make that out. Four tons of coal a month, and only three fires. There must be some mistake. It can't possibly be all gone."

" Yee can go and see for yerself," said Biddy, in her independent way.

I shool; my head, and looked as grave as an alderman with a case before him. A dozen times through the winter I had found occasion to remonstrate with Biddy touching her manner of using coal. Both the range and furnace had been newly put up in the fall, and careful directions left for their proper use.

" You see, Biddy," said I to her, after the range was set and a fire made in it by one of the workmen, " you must never let the coal come above this fire-brick. If you do, it will neither burn so freely nor give such a good. heat."

" O yis, sir; I understands all about it. I'm used to ranges," replied Biddy, unhesitatingly.

"Moreover," I continued, as though I had not heard her, "if you build the fire up to the top plate, you will crack' that and this front piece with the intense heat."

"And do yees think I would destroy your things in that way?" said the girl, half indignantly.

"No, not willfully, Biddy," I soothingly answered, "but ignorantly." "Troth, and I'm not sich an ignoramus as yees takes me for. As if I'd niver seed a range in all my born days! D'ye think there are no ranges in the ould country?"

"No doubt they're as plenty there as blackberries, Biddy," said I, beginning to be a little out of patience; "but that doesn't signify here nor there. I want you to regulate this one according to instruction;.– to follow your orders, if you break your owner."

"Troth, and I can soon break it for yees, if that's what ye want."

"I haven't the least doubt of that, Biddy," I retorted; " for you're good at that work. But I'm particular in wanting this range preserved from all such catastrophes. I wish it taken good care of; so, all you have to do is to follow my directions in using it; and, if any damage is done, I will be responsible."

"If yees wants to be cook," said Biddy, tartly, " I'll act as scullion."

Finding that I was getting into a humor that threatened to lead me into words and acts not over dignified for the head of a family, I retired from the kitchen without another word. I had invaded my wife's province, and the sharp-witted Irish girl only let me see the instant failure of respect that took place in her mind.

On the morning after this interview, I took occasion to look into the kitchen on some pretense. It was as I had expected. The fire-chamber of the range was so full of coal that portions of the ignited fuel projected in the shape of a cone through the hole in the top plate, which was red with heat. I was about entering a strongly uttered protest against such a proceeding, when a remembrance of the girl's intractable temper, as displayed on the day before, warned me to desist.

"Biddy will destroy that range in a month," said I to my wife, as I went back to the room where she was sitting.

In what way?" was asked.

" She keeps the fire-chamber full of coals to the top plate, when I expressly told her that it must not be made above the fire-brick. By doing so, sly not only checks the draft, but injures the range, and destroys a third more fuel."

"I told her of that yesterday. But she says the oven wont bake unless the chamber is full of coal."

" It's not true. A free fire will give more heat than a smothered one, as anybody of common sense may know, I wish you would insist upon her managing it right."

"I'll do all in my power; but I can't be always in the kitchen," replied my wife, a little coldly.

I said no more; for I felt that, though master in my own house, there was a limit to my authority. But I could not always tamely submit to the destruction and disorder that ranged in the lower departments of the household. Occasionally, I would suggest to Biddy that she was not managing the range as I had directed; while at other times I would jog her memory more roughly. All, however, availed not. The coal was still piled to the top plate, that, in a few weeks, was cracked in two pieces from the intense heat to which it was constantly subjected.

As for the furnace, or heater, of which Biddy also had the care, it was managed about as well as the range. Whenever I had occasion to go into the cellar, I found the coal in the fire-cylinder piled fur above the brick lining and almost rolling from the feeder, while the sheet-iron above the fire-brick was red. for the space of several inches. Of course this consumed more coal, injured the furnace, vitiated the air, and diminished the amount of beat usually obtained:: from a given amount of fuel.

Two or three times I took Biddy into the cellar and explained all this to her. Rut I might as well have talked to the wind. She generally resented the interference on my part as a trespass upon her particular province, and a charge of ignorance; neither of which she could or would tolerate for a moment.

Thus it had been during the winter. I therefore knew Biddy's character pretty well, and quickly came to the conclusion that from her no satisfaction, touching the departed twenty tons of' coal, was to be obtained. As to her invitation to dive down into the cellar and see for myself; I felt in no humor to accept of it.

"Don't neglect," said my wife, as I still stood in the dining-room door, "to send us some coal immediately. Biddy says there isn't enough to last until dinner time."

" Indade and there aint," spoke up Biddy, in a kind of triumphant voice; "I scraped up the last this very mornin'. There's not the full of a coalsettle in the whole cellar."

"You're sure of that," said I.

" 'Dade, and I am jilt. Sure, yees can go and see for yerself."

As talking would not put a ton of coal in the cellar, I broke short the interview, and, turning away, left the house.

"Twenty tons of coal in five months," said I to myself, musing, as I walked along. "It's incredible! How she could have burnt up that quantity, even with the end of waste in her mind, passes my comprehension. These Irish girls do beat the Old Harry himself in destruction. Half starved, and half frozen over their turf-fires at home, they come over here, and finding things in plenty around them, go to work with the purpose, it seems, of ascertaining how much they can waste and destroy; and, goodness knows! they are successful experimenters, as every housekeeper feels to his sorrow "

But grumbling was of no avail. More coal must be purchased. So, on my way down town, I called at a coal-office and ordered three more tons to be sent home.

"Be particular m sending it this morning," said I. "We are entirely out of fuel."

The dealer promised that it should be done, and I went on my way. At two o'clock I returned home to dinner. It was one of those raw, cold, wet, shivering days peculiar to March; and by the time I had reached my house, I was about as uncomfortable as I could wish to be. The melted snow on the pavement had penetrated my boots, completely saturating my stockings. I was conscious, from my sensations, that I was taking cold, and felt anxious to get into a warm room, and change my stockings, drawers, and pantaloons for others that were dry.

As I opened my door, I was not affected, as usual, with the warmth of a genial atmosphere. I walked into the parlors, and putting my band against the register, discovered that not a particle of heat was entering the room. I perceived that the dining-room door was closed, so I returned to the passage. Ascending to the first landing, from which this door opened, I entered the room, and found my wife, with a shawl drawn around her shoulders, hovering with the children around the radiator-stove, in which was faintly visible, through the transparent mica in the door, the remains of a departing fire.

"Hasn't that coal been sent home'?" I asked, in surprise at the omission.

" No coal has come to-day," replied my wife, shivering; "and we are almost perished. The fire has gone out in the furnace and range, and is going out here. Not a mouthful of dinner has been cool ed."

"Dear! dear! dear! That's too bad! too bad! I ordered coal the first thing as I went down; and told the dealer particularly to send it home this morning, as we were entirely out."

"He hasn't done it then. What shall we do? I've taken cold already, and the children will get their deaths."

"Surely, enough coal might have been scraped up to keep the fire alive," said I.

"I sent Biddy down twice, and told her to rake and scrape up every piece she could find; but she could only get the scuttle a third full."

"I'll be bound I can find coal there," said I, positively, and away I turned and plunged down into the cellar. It was so dark that, for a few moments, I could see nothing. But I groped my way to a window, and removed a blind made for the purpose of excluding cold in winter. Then I went back to the coal-bins. In one, I found a large pile of dust, several feet in thickness. On probing this with a stick, I discovered that it contained an abundance of coal, in large and small lumps, which it only needed a little trouble to extricate. There was not less than half a ton concealed in this pile of dust and refuse. Another bin was examined, and about a quarter of a ton discovered there. As much more was concealed in the third bin. Then, scattered about in all directions, under the wood, covered with chips, and lurking in corners, where it had been carelessly left, was full half a ton more of good coal; making, in all, about a ton and s half; and yet the house was as cold as winter, and no dinner had been cooked for want of fuel.

" Well, this does beat all!" said I to myself, as I glanced around in wonder.

"Do you find any there?" called my wife to me, in an incredulous voice, from the top of the stairs.

"Any! Yes; a couple of tons or so," was my reply.

"Indade, thin," cried Biddy, who was at the side of my wife, "and there isn't the full of a had there that I could see."

" None so blind as them that won't see," I retorted, angrily. "Bring me down some matches and a newspaper, and I'll soon have a fire in the furnace."

I was now pretty well up, so far as temper was concerned, and when that is the case, I generally make all stand around me, as they say. In a few minutes Biddy came clown with the matches, her countenance somewhat fallen in its aspect. I was at work clearing out the ashes and cinders from the furnace. That done, I took the newspaper from her hand, and thrust it down into the cylinder. On this I poured about a peck of charcoal, and, closing the door, touched a match to the paper below. In a moment or two all was in a blaze, and the igniting charcoal crackling as it absorbed the heat. Next I took a shovel, and, in a few hurried applications of it to certain half-hidden receptacles of coal that I had discovered, scraped together enough to last for a couple of days.

" Do you see that?" said I, speaking with no great show of amiability.

" Sure, and it's very strange!" meekly replied Biddy.

" Indeed it is; passing strange!" I retorted, "With nearly two tons of coal in the cellar, and not a fire in the house. There's half a ton in that bin, mixed up with coal dust. See there!" and I dashed my shovel into the centre of the bin, and, raking open the heap of dust, showed a solid bed of large-size coal at the bottom; adding, as I did so: ' And now please to take a scuttleful up into the dining-room with some charcoal, and set that fire going in the quickest possible time.'

Biddy did not linger, you may be sure, in obeying this direction. She had seen me worked up before, and was pretty well aware of the fact, that it would not take much more provocation to make me turn her out of the house, bag and baggage.

By this time, the charcoal I had thrown into the furnace was thoroughly ignited. In order to get up the heat that was needed, as quickly as possible, I turned in about half a bushel more of charcoal on top of this, and then filled it up with the hard coal. As I closed the door of the feeder, the draught roared encouragingly, and gave promise of a speedy change in the chilling aspect of affairs above. On ascending and placing my hand over the register, the inward pressure of warm air was already perceived; and long before the dining-room fire had begun to burn freely, my shivering wife and children were gathered in the parlor, and beginning to rejoice over the presence of a more agreeable atmosphere.

Of course, we had no regular dinner. It was too late in the day for the preparation of that meal. But, by the time the dining-room was warm enough for occupation, the kettle had been boiled, and a cup of tea, with some bread and butter, solaced us for the loss of a more substantial repast.

Through some mistake, my order for coal was not attended to, and consequently we had no new supply. 1 waited patiently and curiously for the result. Steadily, as of old, there was a rush of hot air into the parlors, and when I glanced into the kitchen, I saw the range piled to the top plate as before; while there was no lack of heat. in the dining-room. I did not renew the order for coal, for I wanted to see how long this state of things would last.

One morning, about three weeks from the time when Biddy could not "find the full of a scuttle" of coal in the cellar, that young lady, who had been particularly active and obliging since the occurrence described, whispered something in the ear of my wife as we sat at the breakfast-table. On her leaving the room, my wife said –

" Biddy wishes me to tell you that she has scraped up all the coal in the cellar it is possible to find, and that there is not more than enough to last through the day and make up the fires in the morning.".

"Oh, very well. I will see that there is a new supply." And I laughed outright as I spoke.

I did not go into the cellar to make any further examinations, for I was well convinced that we were now "short of fuel," and no mistake; but, as it was near to the first of April, and the day was mild as spring, I did not suffer very severely in view of the extra expense for coal required to enable us to pass through the season. The order for a fresh supply, that I gave as I passed to my business, was more promptly filled than the one previously given.

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