the aid of a big wrench, I had the four plugs sparking nicely. He was just recovering some of his usual geniality, when he laid a finger on that wrench, and got thirty thousand volts through him! What he said can't be repeated, though part of it was lost by his leaping in the air. But the shock did him good, and I went up ten points as a gas engineer. He said quite humbly to tell him what to do, and he'd do it, and rolled up his sleeves, and got out a wad of cotton waste as though he was in for an all night job. I kept him there for an hour—the longest hour of his life, as he said afterwards—and he was so willing and patient and obedient that it almost brought the tears to my eyes.
I was right about that cough, and an examination of the carburetor showed that it wouldn't flood, and that consequently the engine was getting no gas. I made poor papa take it all to pieces, and run hairpins through the spray nozzle, and sandpaper the guides of the float. Then he put it back, and still there
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