"The Home,
George," he said, "wants straightening up. Silly muddle! Things that get
in the way. Got to organise it."
For a time he displayed something like the zeal of a genuine social
reformer in relation to these matters.
"We've got to bring the Home Up to Date? That's my idee, George. We got
to make a civilised domestic machine out of these relics of barbarism.
I'm going to hunt up inventors, make a corner in d'mestic ideas.
Everything. Balls of string that won't dissolve into a tangle, and gum
that won't dry into horn. See? Then after conveniences--beauty. Beauty,
George! All these few things ought to be made fit to look at; it's your
aunt's idea, that. Beautiful jam-pots! Get one of those new art chaps
to design all the things they make ugly now. Patent carpet-sweepers by
these greenwood chaps, housemaid's boxes it'll be a pleasure to fall
over--rich coloured house-flannels. Zzzz. Pails, f'rinstance. Hang 'em
up on the walls like warming-pans. All the polishes and things in such
tins--you'll want to cuddle 'em, George! See the notion? 'Sted of all
the silly ugly things we got.
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