there came a day when I decided I wouldn't stand any more of it."

"What happened?"

"Why, I had a sore hand and I asked him to cut one of my feet off
and he cut it off for me and then he got mad at something I said
and threw one of his legs at me. Then not satisfied with that he
took one of the girl's feet and threw that at me, too. Of course
I got mad. I picked up one of my legs in my hand and I tried to
defend myself and then he hit me in the eye with one of his hands
and knocked me over among a lot of legs and arms. He almost broke
my foot and--"

"Did you say he cut one of your feet off?" asked Grant, soberly
looking down at the pedal extremities of the mechanic, as he did
so.

"That's just what he did," answered Sam.

"But it seems to be all right now," protested Fred.

"You don't quite see," said Sam. "I'm talking about the foreman
of the factory where I worked over on Broome Street. We
manufactured legs and feet and arms for dummies and models like I
was telling you."

"Like those that we see in the show windows?"

"That's it exactly," said Sam. "Those dummies and models that
they put in the store windows to display gowns on. I was working