"Indeed we can’t," his wife replied. "The ceiling has to be whitened, and that is a man’s job. I’ve got to wash those curtains, and do a hundred other things. The potatoes have gone so long already that I guess another day won’t do them any harm. You’ll find the whitening in a bag on the woodhouse shelf, and the brush is hanging on the wall."
Abner made no reply but strolled off to the woodhouse softly humming, "When Bill Larkins made his money." Mrs. Andrews and Jess went on with their work, one washing the curtains; the other shaking mats and polishing the chairs upon the verandah. About an hour passed, and then from the parlor came a hair-raising yell, followed immediately by a thump. Jess and her mother nearly collided as they rushed into the room, where they saw Abner sitting upon the floor, his clothes covered with whitening.
"For pity sakes! what is the matter now?" his wife demanded. "Did you fall?"
"No, I didn’t fall, as ye kin see," was the reply. "The darn old floor riz up an’ hit me, that’s all. Ugh!" he groaned.
"Where am I hurt?" and Abner glared at his daughter. "Where de ye think I’m hurt? Where do I look as if I’m hurt; on me head?"
"I should say on your face, by the look of it," his wife retorted. "I thought you had more sense than to put that chair upon such a rickety box. You might have broken your neck. What were you doing up there, anyway?"
"Follerin’ Social Service methods; that’s all, Tildy."
"Social Service methods! Why, what do you mean?"
"Ask Jess; she understands. It’s an elevatin’ process, ye see. I was jist elevatin’ myself to put some plaster on that hole in the ceilin’, when me under-pinnin’ gave way. Did ye learn anythin’ about the under-pinnin’ at the Seminary, Jess?"
"Ye didn’t! Well, that’s queer. What was the use of ye’r studyin’ Social Service if ye didn’t learn nuthin’ about under-pinnin’."
"Ye don’t! Why, I thought everybody knew that under-pinnin’ is what hold’s things up."
"Oh, I see. You mean the foundation, or groundwork, so to speak."
"Well, them may be the highfalutin’ names, but I’m used to under-pinnin’. It comes more natural."
"But what has that to do with Social Service?"
"A darn sight, I should say. Ye can’t do nuthin’ if the under-pinnin’ ain’t right, any more’n I could stand fer long on that chair with the rickety box underneath. Lost Tribes was right when he said ye can’t elevate a pig into nuthin’ more’n a hog. Ye’d better allus be sure of ye’r under-pinnin’, Jess, before ye begin any elevatin’ process. Now, there’s Ikey Dimock, fer instance. If he hasn’t a——"