g among the china. But, la, me! of what account would she
be if I didn't help her? I'd like to know how they'd make tea without hot
water! What would she be good for, any how, if I didn't do the drudgery
for her? This fire would ruin her complexion!

"Whew! this is hot work."

The tea-kettle's voice had grown higher and higher, until she was almost
shrieking by this time, and so she went on.

"But then, I don't mean to be proud or envious. I mean to keep cheerful.
But I do get tired of staying in the kitchen, always among the pots. I'm
a good singer, but the world don't seem to appreciate my voice, and
'Chicken Little' says that I sing through my nose.

"But I wish I could travel a little. There are my cousins, the family of
steam boilers. They won't acknowledge their relationship to me any more.
But what is that huge locomotive, with such a horrid voice, that goes
puffing and screeching past here every morning? What is he but a great,
big, black tea-kettle on wheels! I wish I was on wheels, and then I could
travel, too. But this old stove won't budge, no matter how high I get the
steam.

"And they do say the tea-kettle family is much older than the steam
boiler family. But wouldn't I like to travel! I wonder if I couldn't
start off this old stove. Bridget's out, and the master's asleep,
and----"

I was just going to tell the kettle I was wide awake, but I didn't feel
like talking, and so the kettle went on.

"Yes, I have a good mind to try it. Wouldn't it be a brilliant thing, if
I could move the old cooking stove? Wouldn't Bridget stare, when she came
back, if she should see the 'Home Companion' running off down the
railroad track?

"Whew! I believe I'll burst. Bridget's jammed the lid down so tight I
can't breathe!

"But I'm going to try to be a locomotive. Here goes."

Here the kettle stopped singing, and the steam poured out the spout and
pushed up the lid, and the kettle hissed and rattled and rattled and
hissed so that I really was afraid it would run off with the stove. But
all its puffing was in vain. And so, as the fire began to go down, the
kettle commenced to sing again.

"Well, what a fool I was!

"I'm only a tea-kettle; I never shall be anything else; and so there's
the end of it. It's my business to stay here and do my duty in the
kitchen. I suppose an industrious, cheerful tea-kettle is just as useful
in its place as a steam engine; yes, and just as happy, too. And if I
must stay in this