. Naturally Celia
has had to do most of the work; the cut and thrust of a soldier's life
has prevented me from taking my share of it. I have been so busy, off
and on, seeing that my fellow-soldiers have baths, getting them shaved
and entreating them to send their socks to the wash that I have had no
time for domestic trifles. Celia has taken the cottage; I have merely
allotted the praise or blame afterwards. I have also, of course, paid
the money.

Our landlords have varied, but they are all alike in this. They think
much more of their own comfort as landlords than of our happiness as
tenants. They are always wanting things done for them. When they want
things done for them, then I am firm. Indeed I am granite.

Take the case of Mr. Perkins, who owns our present cottage. Celia
borrowed the cottage from Mr. Perkins at a rental of several thousands
a week. I said it was too much when I heard of it; but it was then too
late--she had already been referred to hereinafter as the tenant. As
soon as we got in we began to make it look more like a cottage; that
is to say, we accidentally dropped the aspidistra out of the window,
lost the chiffonier, removed most of the obstacles and entanglements
from the drawing-room to the box-room, and replaced the lace curtains
with chintzes. In the same spirit of altruism we improved the
bedrooms. At the end of a week we had given Mr. Perkins a cottage of
which any man might be proud.

But there is no pleasing some people. A closer examination of the
lease, in the hope that we had over-counted the noughts in the rental,
revealed to us the following:--

"At the expiration of the said tenancy, all furniture and effects will
be delivered up by the tenant in the same rooms and positions in which
they were found."

Not a word of thanks, you notice, for the new avenues of beauty which
we had opened out for him; no gratitude for the great revelation that
art was not bounded by aspidistras nor comfort by chiffoniers; nothing
but that old reactionary spirit to which, if I may speak of lesser
things, the Russian Revolution was due. Like Mr. Perkins, the Bourbons
learned nothing and forgot nothing.

Naturally I wrote to Mr. Perkins:--

"Dear Sir,--I regret to inform you that the aspidistra has
perished. It never took kindly to us and started wilting on
the second day. As regards other _objets d'art_ once in the
drawing-room, but now seeking the seclusion of the box-room,
w