e
shape of the fireplace, the look of the tea-things and the comfiness of
the chairs.

And we always end up by saying: "And then after that I shall do
absolutely _Nothing_ for a fortnight!"

_December 3._

December. Frost on the trees, all fairy-like in this dense mist. Not a
sound. The sun quite small and white and far away. And if we were on the
Cotswolds, I expect we should go out for a bit of a walk, just to warm
up, after breakfast.

_December 4._

A staff job has been in the air several days. It may or may not come
off. I'm not very keen about it in many ways. But I've a feeling that I
could do it rather well, and so I'm not sure that I oughtn't to accept.

Jezebel and Swallow have quarrelled. Isn't it awful. Hunt has had to
put Tank in between them.

Jezebel kicked Swallow, and the blood fairly spouted out--got her in the
leg, and she lost her temper, and began lashing out. Hunt, with great
presence of mind, threw a bucket of water over them both. And as soon as
they were quiet, dear, good, demure little Tank was put in between them
as buffer.

It's a most dreadful nuisance. They used to get on so well together. I
hope they will leave that curious little Tank alone. Swallow is as lame
as a cat now. The accursed female is very exasperating, I fear. Hunt
quite irritated me for a moment when he remarked, after the incident:
"Oh, it's all right, sir. She was in one of her moods." I pointed out to
him that it was not all right. Whereupon he took it into his head that I
was strafing him, and muttered sulkily: "Well, sir, I must say I never
did like Abroad."

Which made me laugh to such an extent that I got a sort of fit of
laughing (don't you know?) and couldn't stop. Eventually I had to go
away. He looked so comic and so dejected, and his use of the word Abroad
(as if it were a country in itself) always makes me laugh idiotically. I
haven't seen him since, and it will be difficult to explain the apparent
frivolity.

Things have been very complicated just lately owing to our having to
make arrangements about taking over this new bit of line.

_December 5._

[Sidenote: CONCERNING WORK]

One of the many things the war has taught us, I think, is the
comparative equality of all work. Work depends almost entirely on the
actual number of hours per diem, don't you think?

Certainly brain work is more tiring than spade work. But I'll guarantee
that the man who does eight hours' brain work is not _much