The Journal of a Disappointed Man

March 7. A Scots Fir Have been feeling very "down" of late, but yesterday I saw a fine Scots Fir by the roadside--tall, erect, as straight as a Parthenon pillar. The sight of it restored my courage. It had a tonic effect. Quite unconsciously I pulled my shoulders back and walked ahead with renewed vows never to flinch again. It is a noble tree. It has strength as a giant, and a giant's height, and yet kindly withal, the branches drooping down graciously towards you--like a kind giant extending its hands to a child. March 22. A Stagnant Day Went to bed late last night so I slept on soundly till 9 a.m. Went down to the bath-room, but found the door was shut, so went back to my bedroom again, lay down and dosed a while, thinking of nothing in particular. Went down again--door still locked--swore--returned once more to my room and reclined on the bed, with door open, so that I could hear as soon as the bath-room door opened.... Rang the bell, and Miss ---- brought up a jug of hot water to shave with, and a tumbler of hot water to drink (for my dyspepsia). She, on being interrogated, said there was some one in the bath-room. I said I wanted a bath too, so as she passed on her way down she shouted, "Hurry up, Mr. Barbellion wants a bath as well." Her footsteps then died away as she descended lower into the basement, where the family lives, sleeps, and cooks our food.