She was thinking further, that his far-seeing blue eyes looked as
if they had been used to watch danger afar off, and to watch it
without flinching, drawing nearer and nearer: when, happening to
raise her own eyes, she found that he seemed to be thinking
something about THEM.
This a little confused Rosebud, and may account for her never
afterwards quite knowing how she ascended (with his help) to his
garden in the air, and seemed to get into a marvellous country that
came into sudden bloom like the country on the summit of the magic
bean-stalk. May it flourish for ever!
CHAPTER XXII - A GRITTY STATE OF THINGS COMES ON
MR. TARTAR'S chambers were the neatest, the cleanest, and the best-
ordered chambers ever seen under the sun, moon, and stars. The
floors were scrubbed to that extent, that you might have supposed
the London blacks emancipated for ever, and gone out of the land
for good. Every inch of brass-work in Mr. Tartar's possession was
polished and burnished, till it shone like a brazen mirror. No
speck, nor spot, nor spatter soiled the purity of any of Mr.
Tartar's household gods, large, small, or middle-sized. His
sitting-room was like the admiral's cabin, his bath-room was like a
dairy, his sleeping-chamber, fitted all about with lockers and
drawers, was like a seedsman's shop; and his nicely-balanced cot
just stirred in the midst, as if it breathed. Everything belonging
to Mr. Tartar had quarters of its own assigned to it: his maps and
charts had their quarters; his books had theirs; his brushes had
theirs; his boots had theirs; his clothes had theirs; his case-
bottles had theirs; his telescopes and other instruments had
theirs.
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