experience, where all the groceries were kept. The Pilot Light burned steadily and all went well. Towards morning the sick mouse showed a healthy perspiration and fell comfortably asleep. The fever was broken. They covered him over with a warm blanket of Corn Flakes and left him to rest.
The Pilot Light bragged about it next day. If it hadn't been for me, he said, that mouse would have died. This was quite true, and it gave the Pilot Light quite a new idea about his importance. He was no longer unhappy because he had to be ready for action at any time, day or night. He saw how silly it was to be jealous of the Big Burner because the latter is stronger and hotter and has a more showy job. And nowadays, when the Pilot shoots out his thin yellow glim, and the Big Burner catches it and leaps into a roaring circle of blue fire, each of them respects the other for his powers. "Thanks! Good kid!" says the Big Burner in his hoarse blustery voice. "Now watch me boil these potatoes. I'll make 'em bobble!" And the Pilot Light, as he flits back into his little socket, calls in a merry squeak "Go to it, Big Boy! I'll be here when you need me."
