“Stop her! stop her!” bawled Shuey; but in spite of Armorer’s pulling himself purple in the face, the elevator did not stop until it bumped with a crash against the joists of the roof.

“Well, do you suppose we’re stuck HERE?” growled Armorer.

“Well, sir, I’ll try.  Say, don’t be exerting yourself violent.  It strikes me she’s for all the world like the wimmen,—­ in exthremes, sir, in exthremes!  And it wouldn’t be noways so pleasant to go riproaring that gait down cellar!  Slow and easy, sir, let me manage her.  Hi! she’s working.”

In fact, by slow degrees and much puffing, Shuey got the erratic box to the next floor, where, disregarding Shuey’s protestations that he could “make her mind,” Mr. Armorer got out, and they left the elevator to its fate.  It was a long way, through many rooms, downstairs.  Shuey would have beguiled the way by describing the rooms, but Armorer was in a raging hurry and urged his guide over the ground.  Once they were delayed by a bundle of stuff in front of a door; and after Shuey had laboriously rolled the great roll away, he made a misstep and tumbled over, rolling it back, to a tittering accompaniment from the sewing-girls in the room.  But he picked himself up in perfect good temper and kicked the roll ten yards.  “Girls is silly things,” said the philosopher Shuey, “but being born that way it ain’t to be expected otherwise!”

He had the friendly freedom of his class in the West.  He praised Mrs. Ellis’s gymnastics, and urged Armorer to stay over a morning train and see a “real pretty boxing match” between Mr. Lossing and himself.

“Oh, he boxes too, does he?” said Armorer.

“And why on earth would he groan-like?” wondered Shuey to himself.  “He does that, sir,” he continued aloud; “didn’t Mrs. Ellis ever tell you about the time at the circus?  She was there herself, with three children she borrowed and an unreasonable gyurl, with a terrible big screech in her and no sense.  Yes, sir, Mr. Lossing he is mighty cliver with his hands!  There come a yell of ‘Lion loose! lion loose!’ at that circus, just as the folks was all crowding out at the end of it, and them that had gone into the menagerie tent came a-tumbling and howling back, and them that was in the circus tent waiting for the concert (which never ain’t worth waiting for, between you and me!) was a-scrambling off them seats, making a noise like thunder; and all fighting and pushing and bellowing to get out!  I was there with my wife and making for the seats that the fools quit, so’s to get under and crawl out under the canvas, when I see Mrs. Ellis holding two of the children, and that fool girl let the other go and I grabbed it.  ’Oh, save the baby! save one, anyhow,’ cries my wife—­the woman is a tinder-hearted crechure!  And just then I seen an old lady tumble over on the benches, with her gray hair stringing out of her black bonnet.  The crowd was WILD, hitting and screaming and not caring