"Are you a stenographer an' typewriter, mother? Honest?"

"Well, you can take it from me, if I was _it_ at all, I'd be it honest.
What makes you think there's any doubt o' my being one? Don't I have the
appearance of a high-toned young lady stenographer an' typewriter?"

A pause, in which Martha's substantial steps were to be heard busily
passing to and fro, as she went about her work. Her mother's reply
evidently did not carry conviction to Cora's questioning mind, for a
second later she was up and at it afresh.

"Say, now, listen, mother--if you do stenography an' typewritin', what
makes your apron so wet an' dirty, nights when you come home?"

"Don't you s'pose I clean my machine before I leave? What kinder
typewriter d'you think I am? To leave my machine dirty, when a good
scrub-down, with a pail o' hot water, an' a stiff brush, an' Sapolio,
would put it in fine shape for the next mornin'."

"Mother--say, now, listen! I don't _believe_ that's the way they clean
typewriters. Miss Symonds, she's the Principal's seckerterry to our
school, an' she sits in the office, she cleans her machine with oil and
a little fine brush, like you clean your teeth with."

"What you been doin' in the Principal's office, miss, I should like to
know? Been sent up to her for bad behavior, or not knowin' your lessons?
Speak up now! Quick!"

"My teacher, she sends me on errands, an' I got a credit-card last week