of the profits amassed by her
father in the rope-making trade, she was considered a good match.
Captain Barker, however, resented the marriage on the ground that she
was out of place in a pavilion expressly designed for a confirmed
bachelor. When, after a few months, her husband also began to hold
this view, Mrs. Runacles, instead of reminding him that he, and he
alone, was to blame for her intrusion, did her best to make matters
easy by quitting this world altogether on St. Bartholomew's Eve,
1670, leaving behind her the smallest possible daughter. But as this
daughter at once required a nurse, the alleviation proved to be
inconsiderable--as Mr. Runacles would have delighted to point out to
his wife, had she remained within earshot. As it was, he took
infinite pains to select a suitable nurse, and forthwith neglected
the child entirely--a course of conduct which was not so culpable as
might be supposed, since (with the sole exception of Mrs. Runacles)
he had never been known to err in choosing a subordinate. In times
of peace he gave himself up to studying the mathematics, in which he
was a proficient, and to the designing of such curious toys as
sundials, water-clocks, pumps, and the like; which he so multiplied
about the premises, out of pure joy in constructing them, that
Simeon, his body-servant, had much ado to live among the many
contrivances for making his life easier.

Although the two pavilions were exactly similar in shape and
colour, their gardens differed in some important respects.
On Captain Runacles' side of the hedge all was order--trim turf
and yews accurately clipped, though stunted by the sea winds.
Captain Barker's factotum, Narcissus Swiggs by name, was a slow man
with but a single eye. His orbit in gardening was that of the four
seasons, but he had the misfortune to lag behind them by the space of
three months; while the two sides of the gravel path, though each
would be harmonious in itself, could only be enjoyed by shutting one
eye as you advanced from the blue gate to the blue front-door.
The particular pride of Captain Barker's garden, however, was a
collection of figure-heads set up like statues at regular intervals
around the hedge. The like of it could be found nowhere.
Here, against a background of green, and hanging forward over a green
lawn, were an Indian Chief, a Golden Hind, a Triton, a Centaur, an
effigy of King Charles I., another of Britannia, a third of the god
Pan, and a