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137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
80
Some
of
them
have
known
hunger,
and
food
and
strength
are
coupled
together
in
their
experience--the
more
food
the
greater
the
strength;
and
people
who
eat
roast
meat
(oh,
bliss
ineffable!)
every
day
of
their
lives
can
bear
an
amount
of
washing
and
airing
that
would
surely
kill
such
as
themselves.
But
how
useless
to
try
and
discover
what
their
views
really
are.
I
can
imagine
what
I
like
about
them,
and
am
fairly
certain
to
imagine
wrong.
I
have
no
real
conception
of
their
attitude
towards
life,
and
all
I
can
do
is
to
talk
to
them
kindly
when
they
are
in
trouble,
and
as
often
as
I
can
give
them
nice
things
to
eat.
Shocked
at
the
horrors
that
must
surround
the
poor
women
at
the
birth
of
their
babies,
I
asked
the
Man
of
Wrath
to
try
and
make
some
arrangement
that
would
ensure
their
quiet
at
those
times.
He
put
aside
a
little
cottage
at
the
end
of
the
street
as
a
home
for
them
in
their
confinements,
and
I
furnished
it,
and
made
it
clean
and
bright
and
pretty.
A
nurse
was
permanently
engaged,
and
I
thought
with
delight
of
the
unspeakable
blessing
and
comfort
it
was
going
to
be.
Not
a
baby
has
been
born
in
that
cottage,
for
not
a
woman
has
allowed
herself
to
be
taken
there.
At
the
end
of
a
year
it
had
to
be
let
out
again
to
families,
and
the
nurse
dismissed.
"Why
wouldn't
they
go?"
I
asked
the
Frau
Inspector,
completely
puzzled.
She
shrugged
her
shoulders.
"They
like
their
husband
and
children
round
them,"
she
said,
"and
are
afraid
something
will
be
done
to
them
away
from
home--that
they
will
be
washed
too
often,
perhaps.
The
gracious
lady
will
never
get
them
to
leave
their
homes."
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