You
would then find the true joy of life."
To judge from William's countenance he did not wholly agree, but he
made no objection. He had learnt that objection was useless, and
against Uncle George's eloquence silence was his only weapon.
After lunch Uncle George followed his usual custom and retired to
rest. William went to the shed in the back garden and continued the
erection of a rabbit hutch that he had begun a few days before. He
hoped that if he made a hutch, Providence would supply a rabbit. He
whistled blithely as he knocked nails in at random.
"William, you mustn't do that now."
He turned a stern gaze upon his mother.
"Why not?" he said.
"Uncle George is resting."
With a crushing glance at her he strolled away from the shed. Someone
had left the lawn mower in the middle of the lawn. With one of his
rare impulses of pure virtue he determined to be useful. Also, he
rather liked mowing the grass.
"William, don't do that now," called his sister from the window.
"Uncle George is resting."
He deliberately drove the mowing machine into the middle of a garden
bed and left it there. He was beginning to feel desperate. Then:
"What _can_ I do?" he said bitterly to Ethel, who was still at the
window.
"You'd better find some quiet, improving hobby," she said unkindly as
she went away.
It is a proof of the utterly broken state of William's spirit that he
did actually begin to think of hobbies, but none of those that
occurred to him interested him.
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