I
give you the little leaflet, the little pamphlet, _und_ by and by
comes the little hole in your head."
Thank heaven the doctor next door didn't hear that!
Alicia knew how to handle the old visionary with innocent but
consummate skill. Looking at the kind old bear with her Irish eyes:
"It must be a wonderful thing to have such mastery of one's tools,
to know exactly what to do and how to do it," she would sigh.
"'Tisn't everybody can be a master craftsman!"
"I show you in a little while what iss cabinet-making!" he said
proudly. "I do more yet by you," he added charitably, "then make
over for you chairs and tables and such, already: I make over for
you your little mind."
The old socialist did indeed show us what cabinet-making can be. He
turned the office behind the library into a workroom, and from it
Sophronisba's tattered and torn and forlorn old things emerged,
piece by piece, in shining rosewood and walnut and mahogany majesty.
If you love old furniture; if it gives you a thrill just to touch a
period chair of incomparable grace, or the smooth surface of an old
table, or the curve of a carved sofa, you'll understand Alicia's
open rapture and my more sedate delight.
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