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Updated: June 8, 2025
On the boards of the scaffolding workmen, all bespattered with plaster, moved hither and thither like ants. Some were laying bricks, some hewing stones, some carrying up the heavy hods and pails and bringing them down empty.
"You ought to be ashamed of that," said his wife. "I'm not. I'm simply proud of your sex, my dear." "Women do nearly everything, here," said Burnamy, impartially. "They built that big new Kaiserbad building: mixed the mortar, carried the hods, and laid the stone." "That makes me prouder of the sex than ever. But come, Mr. Burnamy!
Andy caught on to the situation. In a swift, quiet way he anticipated the cook's needs. He dipped and dried some skillets near a trough of water. He sharpened some knives. He carried some charcoal hods nearer to a stove needing replenishing. After awhile the cook began to whistle cheerily. His perplexities were lessening, and he felt good humored over it. "Things in running order," he chirped.
Away towards the Greyfriars were the tall "lands" which the masons were pulling down. Nearer were men climbing up ladders with hods on their shoulders. Highest of all, against the blue sky, naked as a new gibbet, stood out the framework of a crane. It was the very place of my dream. I knew it well enough, indeed, but never until that day it had looked so.
"You ought to be ashamed of that," said his wife. "I'm not. I'm simply proud of your sex, my dear." "Women do nearly everything, here," said Burnamy, impartially. "They built that big new Kaiserbad building: mixed the mortar, carried the hods, and laid the stone." "That makes me prouder of the sex than ever. But come, Mr. Burnamy!
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