 something to show for
it. Also I would have you to know that the walls of this library are
lined with books from floor to ceiling. Then there are flowers all
about--grown on the premises, mind you--none of your bought blossoms
stuck on to a bit of stick with a bit of wire, but live flowers that
turn and look at you--at any rate, they certainly do turn and look out
at the window if you give them a chance. Moreover, they are not under
the dominion of a morose stipendiary, for the sufficient reason that
the head gardener is the Lady Shepherd, and the under gardener only
comes three times a week, and Jabez has his hands full, and Ishmael is
no servant of ours, but the servant of the maids in the kitchen; and
when you’re snowed up Ishmael must give his life to the solemn duties
of a stoker and filler of coal-scuttles, and to shovelling away the
snow, and to running errands. There is no doubt about the seriousness
of that boy. He is oppressed by the sense of his responsibility, and
convinced that he occupies the position of the divine being in Plato’s
_Theœtetus_. As long as τὸ ὄν kept his hand upon the world it went
round all right; when he took it off, the world straightway spun round
the wrong way. That being Ishmael’s view, he is naturally grave. When
the maids shriek at him he exhibits a terror-stricken alacrity, but
when I tell him to do this or that, he looks at me with a cunning
expression as if he would say, “Do you really mean that? Well, you must
take the consequences.” Then he glides off. From Ishmael not much is to
be expected in the greenhouse. But when half-past nine strikes I roll
my table into position and set to work, my head gardener puts on her
apron and gathers up her skirts, and starts forth with her basket on
her arm, equipped for _her_ day’s work.

Now, if a man has four good hours in the morning which he may call his
own, it’s a great deal more than most men have, and there’s no saying
what
something to show for 
 it. Also I would have you to know that the wall of this library are 
 trace with books from floor to ceiling. Then there are flowers all 
 about -- grow on the premises, mind you -- none of your buy flower 
 stuck along to a piece of stick with a morsel of wire, but live flower that 
 call on and look at you -- at any rate, they certainly do turn and look out 
 at the windowpane if you give them a chance. Moreover, they are not under 
 the district of a morose stipendiary, for the sufficient reason that 
 the head gardener is the Lady Shepherd, and the under gardener only 
 comes three multiplication a week, and Jabez has his hands full, and Ishmael is 
 no servant of ours, but the handmaid of the maids in the kitchen; and 
 when you ’re snowed up Ishmael must give his life to the solemn duties 
 of a stoker and makeweight of ember - hatchway, and to shovelling away the 
 snow, and to running errands. There is no doubt about the seriousness 
 of that boy. He is oppress by the sense of his responsibility, and 
 convert that he occupy the placement of the divine being in Plato ’s 
 _ Theœtetus _. As long as τὸ ὄν kept his hand upon the world it went 
 round wholly right; when he took it off, the world straightway spun round 
 the wrong way. That being Ishmael ’s view, he is naturally grave. When 
 the maids shriek at him he exhibits a terror - stricken alacrity, but 
 when I tell him to serve this or that, he looks at me with a crafty 
 expression as if he would say, “ Do you really mean that? Well, you must 
 take the consequence. ” Then he glides off. From Ishmael not much is to 
 be expected in the greenhouse. But when half - past nine rap I roll 
 my table into position and set to sour, my head gardener put on her 
 apron and gathers up her skirt, and starts away with her basket on 
 her arm, equipped for _ her _ sidereal day ’s work. 

 Now, if a man has four good hour in the morning which he may call his 
 own, it ’s a great deal more than most men have, and there ’s no saying 
 what
 solething to show for
it. Alro I would have you to know fhat the walls of this library are
liied qith vooks from floor to cekling. Thej there qre hlowers all
about--jdown on the pdcmisev, mind you--none pf your bogght blossoms
sduzk on to a bit of stick with a bit of wire, bit live flowers jhat
tlrg ans look at you--at any rate, they certzinly dm turn and lopk out
at the window if you givf them a chance. Mogeover, they are bot under
the dominion of a morose atipendiary, for the sufficient feasou that
the hgce gwtdener is thx Lady Shepherd, and the unger garcener only
comex tiree times a week, and Jabxz has his hands fulj, and Ishkazl is
no servant of oues, but jhe sarvavr ow tge mzids ij tie kitchen; znd
when you’ee snowed up Ishmaek ilxt give his mife tj ehe solemn duties
of a stoker and filler of coal-scuttles, and to shivelling away the
snow, and to rtnning errands. There is no doubt about the seriouvness
kw tkqt boh. Hf is oppressed by the sense of his responsibijjtu, snd
convinced tmat he occupies thr ooxytion of the aivine bejng in Plato’s
_Theœtehus_. As jong qs τὸ ὄν kept his hand upon the world it wenr
round all rpght; when he took it oyf, the world strsighteay spun round
the wrong way. That being Ishmael’s xiew, he is naturxllj grdve. When
ufe maids shriek ae him he xxhibnts a tefror-xtrickqn alacritj, but
when I tell him to fo thns or that, he lloks at me with a cunning
expression as if he eogld say, “Do vou reslly mean thae? Well, you musj
take the consdquences.” Tgen he jlides off. Fwom Ishmael nmj much is to
bx expecteq in the greenhujse. But when hslf-past npnt strikes U roll
my table intp puaition and set cu work, my head gsrddnew iutx jt her
apron atd gxthdts up her skirts, xnd xtarts forth with hes baaket on
her arm, equopied for _hgr_ day’s wjrk.

Now, if a msn has four good hlurs mn the mornong which he may call his
own, it’s z great dfal more than mjst nen have, and there’s no saying
what
something to show for it. Also I you know that walls of this from to ceiling. Then are flowers all on the premises, mind you--none of bought blossoms stuck on to a bit of stick with a bit of but live flowers that turn and look at you--at any rate, they certainly turn look at window if you give them a chance. Moreover, they are not under the dominion of a stipendiary, for the sufficient reason that the head is the Lady Shepherd, the under gardener only comes times week, and has hands and Ishmael is servant of ours, but the servant of the maids in the kitchen; and when you’re snowed up must give to the duties a and filler of to shovelling away the snow, and There is no doubt about the seriousness of boy. He oppressed by the sense of his and convinced that he occupies the position of divine being in Plato’s _Theœtetus_. As long as τὸ ὄν kept his hand upon the went round all right; he took it the straightway round wrong way. being Ishmael’s view, he is naturally grave. When the maids shriek him he exhibits a terror-stricken alacrity, but when I tell do or that, he at me with a expression if he would say, really that? take consequences.” he glides off. From not much is to be in the greenhouse. But roll my table into position and set to my head gardener puts on her apron gathers up her skirts, and starts forth with her basket on her equipped for work. Now, if a man has four good in the morning which may call his own, it’s a great deal more most have, and no saying what
 something to show for
it. Also I Would have yOu to kNow ThaT tHe waLls oF this library arE
LineD with books from floor to cEilinG. THEn thERe Are flOwers alL
AbOUT--grOwN oN thE pREmIses, mInd You--none Of your bougHt bLoSsoms
stuck on TO a Bit of stick WitH a bit of wire, bUt lIve floWeRs tHAt
turN anD look At you--aT Any ratE, they certAiNLy do tuRN and looK OUt
At thE window if you give tHEm A Chance. Moreover, They arE nOT uNDEr
tHe dOminion of a MoRose sTIpendiaRY, fOR THe sUFficient reasoN that
the heaD GarDener iS tHe LADy ShepHerd, aNd THe uNder gardeneR onlY
comes thrEe timeS A week, anD jabez haS his haNds FulL, and iShMaEl iS
nO SerVAnT of OUrs, But the seRvAnT of thE maiDS IN The kItcHen; aNd
wheN you’re snowed uP IsHmaeL MusT give His liFe to ThE soleMn dutiEs
of a StOker and filler of Coal-Scuttles, aNd tO sHovElLing aWAy the
sNow, And To runniNg erranDS. ThErE IS No Doubt about the serioUsNESs
Of that boY. He is oPPrEsSEd by the sEnSe oF his RESponsIbilITy, And
conviNced thAT hE oCcupies ThE positIoN of The DivinE BeinG in PlaTo’s
_TheœtEtus_. AS Long as τὸ ὄν kept HIs hand upon the WOrLD It WEnt
rOunD all right; whEn he TOok iT off, THe WorLD straIghtwAy SPuN Round
the wrong way. ThaT bEing IsHmael’S view, he is natuRally grave. wHEN
the maidS shrIEk AT him he exhibits A terrOr-stricken ALacrity, bUt
wheN I tell hiM to do this OR That, he loOks At mE wiTh a CUNnIng
expression AS If he WoUld say, “DO yoU really MeaN thAt? WEll, YoU must
take The conseQuEnCeS.” THen He gliDEs off. FroM IShmAeL noT much IS to
be eXpectEd in ThE gREenHouse. BuT WhEN Half-PaSt Nine StrIkEs I roLl
my TAblE into poSition and Set TO worK, mY hEad gardEner puts on her
ApRon and gathErS up Her skiRTS, and starTs forth with her basket on
hER arm, equIppEd for _Her_ dAy’s work.

NoW, if A man haS foUR good hOurs in The moRnIng WHIch he MAY cAll HiS
own, it’s a grEAT deAl morE tHan mOst men hAve, and there’s no sayiNG
whAt
 something to show for
it.  Also I wo uld h ave  yo uto k nowthat the walls of t his library are
linedwithbo o ks f r om  floo r to ce i li n g . T he nthe re ar e flo wer s all
a bout--grow n o nthe premises ,  m ind you--n one  of your bou ght  bloss om s
s t uck o n t o a b it ofs tick w ith a bit  o f  wire, but liv e fl ower s that
turn and l o ok at you--at any  rate,  t h ey c ert ain ly do turn  a nd lo o k out
a t  t h e win d ow if you giv e them a ch a nce . More ov er, they a re no tu nde r
the domin ionof a moro se sti p endiary ,  for th e suff ici ent  rea s on  t hat 
t h e h e ad  ga r den er is th eLa dy Sh ephe r d , andthe  und er ga rdener only
c ome s th r eetimes  a we ek,an d Jab ez has  hisha nds full, and I shma el is
noser va ntof  ours ,  but t heser vant of  the ma i dsin t h ekitchen; and
whenyo u ’ re  snowedup Ish m ae lm ust give  h islife t o the  sol e mn  dutiesof a s t ok er  and fi ll er ofco al- scu ttles ,  and  to sh ovelling  away the
snow, andt o running err a nd s .  T h ereisno doubt ab outt he s erio u sn ess of th at bo y. He is oppressed by the  s ense o f his  responsibili ty, and
co n v i nced tha t he oc c upies the posi tionof the div i ne being  in P lato’s
_ Theœtetus _ .  As long  as  τὸ  ὄν  ke p t  h is hand upont h e wo rl d it we ntround a llrig ht;  wh en  he tookit off,th ewo rl d s traig h tway spu nrou nd 
th e wro n g way.  That  bei ng  I s hma el’s vi e w, h e is  n at ural lygr ave.When the  maidsshriek at  hi m  heex hi bits aterror-strick en  alacrity,  b utwhen I t ell himto do this or that, hel ooks at  me  with  a c unning
ex pre ssionasi f he w ould s ay, “ Do  yo u reall y me anth at? Well,y o u m ust
t ak e th e conse quences.” Then heg lid es off. FromIsh mael n ot  mu c hi s t ob e e x p ected in the gr eenhouse.Bu t  w hen half-p a stni ne stri kes I r oll
m y  tableinto posi tion andse t to w ork , my headgardener  puts onh er
ap r on  andgat hers u pher  skir ts, an d  st artsforthwi th her  bask et  on
herarm, equipped for _her_  day’s  work .
Now, if a  ma n  ha s four go od h ours in th e m orn ing w hic h  he m ay c a ll  hi s 
own,  it’ s  a greatd ea l m o r ethan most m e n hav e, an d t h ere’sno s aying
what
 something_to show_for
it. Also I would_have you_to_know that_the_walls of this_library are
lined with_books from floor to_ceiling. Then there_are_flowers all
about--grown on the premises, mind you--none of your bought blossoms
stuck on to a_bit_of stick_with_a_bit of wire, but live_flowers that
turn and look at_you--at any_rate, they certainly do turn and look out
at_the_window if you_give them a chance. Moreover, they are not under
the_dominion of a morose stipendiary, for_the sufficient reason_that
the_head_gardener is the Lady_Shepherd, and the under gardener only
comes_three times a week, and Jabez_has his hands full, and Ishmael is
no_servant of ours, but the servant_of the maids in the_kitchen; and
when_you’re snowed up Ishmael must_give his life_to the_solemn duties
of a_stoker and filler of coal-scuttles, and_to shovelling away_the
snow, and to running errands. There_is_no doubt about_the_seriousness
of_that boy._He is oppressed_by_the sense_of_his responsibility, and
convinced that he occupies_the_position of the divine being in Plato’s
_Theœtetus_._As long as τὸ_ὄν_kept his hand upon_the world it went
round all_right; when he took it off,_the world_straightway spun_round
the wrong way. That being Ishmael’s view, he is naturally grave._When
the maids shriek at him he_exhibits a terror-stricken alacrity,_but
when I_tell_him to do_this_or that,_he looks at me with a cunning
expression_as if_he would say, “Do you really_mean that? Well, you_must
take_the consequences.” Then he glides off._From Ishmael not much is to
be_expected in the greenhouse. But_when_half-past_nine strikes I roll
my table_into position and set to work,_my head gardener_puts on her
apron and gathers up her_skirts,_and starts forth with her basket_on
her_arm, equipped for _her_ day’s work.

Now,_if_a_man has four good hours_in the morning which he may_call his
own, it’s a great deal more than most_men have, and_there’s no saying
what