evening; how sweep when a broom is all inadequate to the task?
Salemina's usual remark, on entering a humble hostelry anywhere, is:
"If the hall is as dirty as this, what must the kitchen be! Order
me two hard-boiled eggs, please!"

"Use your 'science,' Benella," I say to that discouraged New England
maiden, who has never looked at her philosophy from its practical or
humorous side. "If the universe is pure mind and there is no
matter, then this dirt is not a real thing, after all. It seems, of
course, as if it were thicker under the beds and bureaus than
elsewhere, but I suppose our evil thoughts focus themselves there
rather than in the centre of the room. Similarly, if the broom
handle is broken, deny the dirt away--denial is much less laborious
than sweeping; bring 'the science' down to these simple details of
everyday life, and you will make converts by dozens, only pray don't
remove, either by suggestion or any cruder method, the large key
that lies near the table leg, for it is a landmark; and there is
another, a crochet needle, by the washstand, devoted to the same
purpose. I wish to show them to the Mullarkey when we leave."

Under our educational regime, the 'metaphysical' veneer, badly
applied in the first place, and wholly unsuited to the foundation
material, is slowly disappearing, and our Benella is gradually
returning to her normal self. Perhaps nothing has been more useful
to her development than the confusion of Knockarney House.

Our windows are supported on decrepit tennis rackets and worn-out
hearth brushes; the blinds refuse to go up or down; the chairs have
weak backs or legs; the door knobs are disassociated from their
handles. As for our food, we have bacon and eggs, with coffee made,