Our dear elder statesman looked almost comical as he tottered back to where this humble one was serving fine hot drinks to foreman ‘George’, Fred and the other sons of honest toil after their day’s work.
“That we ‘ave, sir,” the foreman declared happily, “after all, once we’d moved yon air tank, well sir, leave it t’ old Fred to point out that since we needed to move them trumpets to get at t’ gas tank, why not hook t’ whole thing up and have shot of it! Ain’t that right Fred?”
“Right,” said a most satisfied Fred.
“Well sir! Once t’was done, we could dismantle yon gas plumbin’, and Lord bless us, Fred says that while we’re there, might as well move them gas lamps round t’ other side!”
“Right,” nodded Fred without being prompted, then took a healthy slurp of his tea.
“Now, we needed some extra pipin’ sir, and there was that stack o’ pipes outside, so I ‘ope we didn’t mess up any plans you might’ve ‘ad…”
“Oh, no!” Martien held up a hand. “That was all left over from the original build!”
“Well that’s a relief t’ hear sir, and we’re holdin’ onto the rest for when we move them other two. Oh! There were a scrap cart came and hauled them big metal tubs away.”
“Good,” Martien nodded, “And I see the doors and windows arrived today as well.”
“That they did sir, and we’ve stacked ’em up t’ north side nice and neat, since there’ll be plenty of dirt and wreckage once we begin breakin’ down walls t’morrow sir. Ain’t that -“
“Right,” Fred jumped in a little early.
“You and your fellows are working at quite a clip,” Martien observed, “Trying to get it all done before the holidays, eh?”
“Well, not so much them ‘olidays,” ‘George’ remarked, taking his cap off and turning it around in his paws, “But we’ve ‘eard talk that t’ world’s comin’ to t’ end about Friday.”
Your narrator rolled his eyes; Martien pinched his brow in exasperation.
“And to be honest, sir, I don’t want to find myself afore t’ Lord sir, with all them angels looking down on me, and know that I let a job go unfinished before t’ last trump blew!”