donkey boiler

The hot water tap in the kitchen brays like a demented ass. I'm not sure why this should be, but it is.


I have no other real complaint about the hot water tap in the kitchen. It delivers reliably hot water, as it is a but a short way from the inæsthetic and dusty water heater in the corner, so that is as it should be. It is merely a pity that the hot water should be accompanied by a sound so unpleasant. Adding cold water affects the timbre somewhat, I have found, and I am convinced that the right mix of hot and cold would quiet the flow entirely. However, I have not found the correct mix yet, and accordingly, whenever I use the kitchen tap, I find myself twiddling the spigots in search of the perfect setting while all visible plumbing judders and screams and I pray silently that the neighbors do not think I am actually tormenting some benighted equid.

The ass would definitely qualify as a benighted equid. G. K. Chesterton remarked on this too, capturing the ridiculousness and vocal quality of the animal in this stanza:

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things

But asses and donkeys have lent their considerable toughness to many a human project. They can be good workers and the extra bit of strength needed to get a job done. Perhaps for that reason auxilliary engines and boilers in the age of steam got the name donkey engine and donkey boiler. Here is one.

I would like this bit of nomenclature to explain somehow the obnoxious racket emitted by my kitchen tap, or better yet, point to a way to cut short that obnoxious racket, but no solution presents itself. I will continue to wince while drawing hot water, fighting down the impression that the sound eminates from the infernal regions where actual boiling of donkeys would seem to be taking place.