“We live in a poor neighbourhood, and I have come to know the history of many poor working people lately; and I want to understand so much about it, even more than I used to long to understand the mysterious life of shells and flowers. Why aren’t there public baths, etc., for children as much as public schools? They want washing more than teaching. ‘Hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and bodies washed in pure water,’ is continually sounding in my ears.” (Well—why don’t you go and wash some, then?)
“A poor woman, whose father was a West Country carrier,” (very good, but what is she?—the gist of the story depends on that: at present it’s like one of those French twisty Bulimi, with no beginning to it,) “was so delighted the other day to find we knew the ‘West Country;’ and when I was saying something about our intending to take the children down in May to pick cowslips, her face gleamed with delight as she said, ‘Oh, the years since I’ve seen a cowslip!’ We used to make ‘tisties’ ” (twisties?) “of them, and it sent a thrill of remembrance through me of my own birthday treats, and cowslip-ball days.
“But I’m so glad you like the shells. No, there is nothing about vegetables in the word Bulimus; but ‘empty-bellied’ generally is hungry, and hungry generally eats a great deal when opportunity offers. Now these ‘Bulimi’ eat a great deal, (of vegetables, it happens,) so I suppose some one who named them thought they must be very hungry or ‘empty-bellied.’ That’s the way I read the story.” Well, it’s very accommodating and ingenious of you to read it that way; but many snails, thrushes, blackbirds, or old gentlemen of my acquaintance who ‘eat a great deal,’ appear to me more suggestive of the epithet ‘full-’ than ‘empty-’—waist-coated, shall we say? [[308]]
VI. Week’s Diary of a Companion of St. George:—
“First day.—Received from Sheffield a dainty ‘well-poised little hammer’ and three sharp-pointed little chisels: felt quite cheerful about porphyry-cutting.
“Second day.—Sent to the village in the morning for a slab of freestone; employed man in the afternoon to chisel a hole in it, and to fix the porphyry therein with plaster-of-Paris; drew a straight line, thinking it wiser not to begin with an asterisk; turned the points of two chisels without making the least impression on my line;—the process turned out to be skating, not engraving. Tried the third chisel, and, after diligent efforts, made a cut equal in depth to about two grains of sand. This is the Hamite bondage of art. Felt an increasing desire that the Master should try it, and a respect for the ancient Egyptians. Bore patiently the scoffs of the Amorites.
“Third day.—Sent chisel to the village to be hardened. Was recommended a lead hammer. Finally, a friend went to the village and brought back with him an iron hammer and two shorter chisels. Was asked by an Amorite gardener how I was ‘getting on’—unconcealed pleasure on his part to hear that I was not getting on at all. Later, accomplished a beautifully irregular star-fish, which looks mashed out rather than cut, not the least like ‘sharp cliff-edged harbours,’ as the Master kindly supposes. I begin to feel for the ancient Egyptians: they must have got a great deal of porphyry-dust into their eyes. I shall rise in the morning to dulled points and splintered chisels; but ‘when you have cut your asterisk, you will know,’ etc., and this is not the voice of a syren, (see ‘Eagle’s Nest,’) but of my honoured Master.… A terrible suspicion occurs to me that he thought no one would or could cut it! Obedience is a fine thing! How it works in the midst of difficulties, dust, and worst of all—doubt!
“Fourth day.—I think porphyry-cutting is delightful work: it [[309]]is true that I have not done any to-day, but I have had my chisels sharpened, and two new ones have arrived from the blacksmith this evening, made out of old files. Also, I have covered my chisels with pretty blue paper, and my hammer with blue-and-white ribbon. I feel the importance of the step gained. Surely I may rest righteously after such labour. If they sing ‘From Egypt lately come,’ in church, I shall think it very personal.
“Fifth day.—My piece of porphyry is now enriched by a second star-fish, with a little more backbone in it, and two dividing lines. I worked on the lawn this morning, under the chestnut tree;—the derision of the Amorite gardener (who was mowing the grass with a scythe) was manifested by the remark ‘Is that-t all!’ I told him about the Egyptian tombs, but he probably thinks me mildly insane; he however suggested a flat edge instead of a point to a chisel, and I will try it.
“Sixth day.—Had lead hammer cast, and waited for chisel.