"Look! there it is now! How do you think it looks? You pour the
oil into this glass, and that stump of ribbon inside is the wick--
hold that pare a little further off, will you!"

"Shall we light it?" said mother, as she drew back.

"Are you mad? How can it be lighted when there's no oil in it?"

"Well, but can't you pour some in, then?"

"Pour in oil? A likely tale! Yes, that's just the way when people
don't understand these things; but the storekeeper warned me again
and again never to pour the oil in by firelight, as it might catch
fire and burn the whole house down."

"Then when will you pour the oil into it!"

"In the daytime--daytime, d'ye hear? Can't you wait till day? It
isn't such a great marvel as all that." "Have you SEEN it burn,
then?"

"Of course I have. What a question! I've seen it burn many a time,
both at the parsonage and when we tried this one here at the
storekeeper's."

"And it burned, did it?"

"Burned? Of course it did, and when we put up the shutters of the
shop, you could have seen a needle on the floor. Look here, now!