in the aspect of the bungalow’s interior, what shall be said of the paper-hanger? I had always had a shamefaced and unconfessed admiration for a dressmaker who could make stripes come together correctly down a seam; but after I had seen that master of precision fitting the two halves of a pansy together down ten feet of wall space, so that you couldn’t for the life of you tell where the “pan” ended and the “sy” began, I perceived that the other was only a weak imitation of this superior being. Have you ever tried to paste on a flat surface a piece of paper the size of this page? If you have, you will not need to be told that, short of putting up a stovepipe, it is the most maddening feat attempted by civilized man. You will remember how it curls up and sticks to the other side of itself: how you get it off one finger only to have it cling to another: how, when you spread it out flat, at last, the air bubbles get under it, as if they heard a burglar in the house, and pull the blankets over
