That lawn-mower began to complain so loudly that the neighbors for
miles around rushed to the rock pile and armed themselves for the
fray.
The committee of citizens attracted by the screams of the
lawn-mower came over to see if I was killing a member of the family
or only a distant relative.
When they saw me boxing the ears of a stubborn lawn-mower they said
my punishment was heavy enough, so they threw away the lynching
rope and left me at the post.
Clara J. came out on the porch and said, "John, perhaps that
lawn-mower would stop screaming if you used a little axle grease!"
"All right," I came back at her, "but it will take me an hour and a
half to find out which part of the lawnmower will fit the axle
grease."
Then I lifted the machinery up to examine its constitution and
by-laws, and about two and a half pounds of wrought iron fell off
and landed on my instep.
The wrought iron made good.
Then I tried to stand on the other foot, but I lost my balance and
fell on the lawn-mower's third rail.
I never was so mortified in my life as when that lawn-mower began
to saw its initials on my shin bones.
Every time I tried to get up I lost my balance, and every time I
lost my balance the lawn-mower would leap up in the air and fall on
my wish-bone.
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