she seated herself, “we have just members enough for the offices, and just offices enough for the members, so I don’t see how the I. I.’s can increase. To-night we were to talk about coal, and I will ask Phil to begin by telling us what he knows on the subject.”
“Oh, dear!” groaned Phil, “that won’t be much. Let’s see. There are different kinds of coal, the hard or anthracite, and the soft or bit—bit—”
“Bituminous?” suggested Bert.
“Oh, yes! Bituminous. The bit-uminous has more oil in it, and is smokier. So people that live in cities where it is burned get black all over themselves when they go out on the street.”
“Yes,” interposed Sam. “When my father took me to Chicago with him, there was one day that it was so thick in the air you couldn’t see any distance at all, and when I went back to the hotel to dinner, my nose was all covered with black streaks.”
“I know how that is,” said Bess. “But go on, Phil.”
“We burn the hard coal here. Then they
