I felt a glow of pride in the hill, thinking:
"In London it's all slush and mud. They don't suspect what we've got here. A suburb is a wonderful place!"
After a wet and muddy day in London I've seen the trains pull into Charing Cross with snow piled on the roofs of the carriages, and felt a foot taller for joy that I was one of those fortunates who might step into a train and go down into a white countryside.
It is the same excitement to wake up early to an overnight fall and see down the Dover Road for miles no foot of man printed, but only the birds' feet. Considering the Dover Road has been a highway since the Romans, it really is a fine moment when you realize its surface has suddenly become untrodden and unexplored as any jungle.
Alas, the amount of snow that has set me writing!... two bucketfuls in the whole garden!
When a Medical Officer goes sick, or, in other words, when an M.O. is warded, a very special and almost cynical expression settles on his face. Also the bedside manner of the Visiting Officer is discarded as he reaches the bed of the sick M.O.
"My knees are very painful," says the sick M.O., but it is a despondent statement, not a plea for aid.
The Visiting Officer nods, but he does not suggest that they will soon be better.
They look at each other as weak human beings look, and: