It's ridiculous. I surrender my
shovel."
"Gord," breathed the P.O., looking at me pityingly, "we don't want to
go and reduce that coal pile, we want to enlarge it."
"Oh!" I replied, stunned, "I didn't quite understand. I thought you
wanted to make it smaller, so I've been trying to shovel it away all
afternoon."
"You shouldn't oughter have done that," replied the P.O. as if he were
talking to an idiot, "I suppose you've been shoveling her down hill
all day?"
I admitted that I had.
"You see," I added engagingly, "I began with trying to shovel her up
hill, but the old stuff kept on rolling down on me, so I drew the
natural conclusion that I'd better shovel her down hill. It seemed
more reasonable and--"
"Easier," suggested the P.O.
"Yes," I agreed.
There was a faraway expression in his eyes when he next spoke. "I'd
recommend you for an ineptitude discharge," he said, "if it wasn't for
the fact that I have more consideration for the civilian population.
I'd gladly put you in the brig for life if I could feel sure you
wouldn't injure it in some way. The only thing left for me to do is to
make you promise that you'll keep away from our coal pile and swear
never to lay violent hands on it again.
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