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Hoisting and unloading machines will play a notable part in minimising the expenses of handling goods carried by sea. The grain-elevator system is only the beginning of a revolution in this department which will not end until the loading and unloading of ships have become almost entirely the work of machinery.
The returns from running to fires are marvelously small. They tell me that a hundred million dollars a year goes up in flames in this country. I don't believe it. If it does, I want to know who gets to see all the fun. I don't. I've run to fires all my life, until lately, and I've drawn about three hundred and seventy-five blanks. Once I almost saw a big grain-elevator burn in a Western town.
The finest of these Florentine palaces are, I imagine, the tallest habitations in Europe that are frankly and amply habitations not mere shafts for machinery of the American grain-elevator pattern.
This smug in-between town, which had exchanged "Money Musk" for phonographs grinding out ragtime, it was neither the heroic old nor the sophisticated new. Couldn't she somehow, some yet unimagined how, turn it back to simplicity? She herself knew two of the pioneers: the Perrys. Champ Perry was the buyer at the grain-elevator.
It was searching into a scene beyond this bright sunlight and the far green-brown grass, and the little oasis of trees in the distance marking a homestead, and the dust of the wagon-wheels out on the trail beyond the grain-elevator beyond the blue horizon's rim, quivering in the heat, and into regions where this crisp, clear, life-giving, life-saving air never blew.
One of these huge machines can cut and stack in one day the grain from a hundred acres of land. Then the grain is threshed at once in the field, before the rain can do it harm. Through the spout of the thresher the grain falls into the box wagon, which carries it to the grain-elevator, or building for storing grain.
She put an her tweed coat and rubber overshoes, considering how honest and hopeless are rubbers, how clearly their chaperonage proved that she wasn't going to a lovers' tryst. She found him in the shadow of the grain-elevator, sulkily kicking at a rail of the side-track. As she came toward him she fancied that his whole body expanded.
The fields swept up to it, past it. It was unprotected and unprotecting; there was no dignity in it nor any hope of greatness. Only the tall red grain-elevator and a few tinny church-steeples rose from the mass. It was a frontier camp. It was not a place to live in, not possibly, not conceivably. The people they'd be as drab as their houses, as flat as their fields. She couldn't stay here.
During the last few months they had transferred themselves to the "Malibran," a tall narrow structure resembling a grain-elevator divided into cells, where linoleum and lincrusta simulated the stucco and marble of the Stentorian, and fagged business men and their families consumed the watery stews dispensed by "coloured help" in the grey twilight of a basement dining-room. Mrs.
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