mired courage. If I were a young man
and back on earth again, I might do worse, what, what?"

And then I am sorry to say he changed the subject abruptly. He went on:

"What's this about King Edward potatoes? Stuff and nonsense! I knew all
about potatoes. Grew them at Windsor. Kew too. Wrote an article about
them. Why can't they name a potato after me? What?"

Here Chlorine interposed: "Do you wish for another three minutes, sir,
or have you finished?"

I hoped he would say, "Don't cut us off," but, possibly from habits of
economy, he did not. I have not given his name, for fear of being
thought indiscreet, but possibly those who are deeply read in history
may guess it.

It is the greatest tribute but one that I have ever received, and I
think brings me very nearly up to the level of my Great Example. If I
could only feel that for once I had done that, I could fold my little
hands and be content.

But it is not quite the greatest tribute of all. The greatest is my own
self-estimate of me myself. It demands and shall receive a chapter all
to itself. Wipe your feet, take off your hat, assume a Sunday
expression, and enter upon it reverently.

After all, the gift of seeing ourselves as others see us is not to be
desired. In your case for certain it would cause you the most intense
depression. Even in my own case I doubt if it would give me the same
warm, pervading glow of satisfaction that obtain from a more Narcissan
procedure.

By the way, ought one to say "self-estimate" or "self-esteem"? What a
silly girl I am! I quite forgot.

SEVENTH EXTRACT

SELF-ESTIMATE

More trouble. Determined to give an estimate of myself based on the best
models, I turned to the pages of my Great Example, and ran into the
following sentence:

"I do not propose to treat myself like Mr. Bernard Shaw in this
account."

Does this mean that she does not propose to treat herself as if she were
Mr. Bernard Shaw? It might. Does it mean that she does not propose to
treat herself as Mr. Bernard Shaw treats her? It is not impossible.

What one wants it to mean is: "I do not propose to treat myself as Mr.
Bernard Shaw treats himself." But if she had meant that, she would have
said it.

I backed away cautiously, and, a few lines further on, fell over her
statement that she has a conception of beauty "not merely in poetry,
music, art and nature, but in human beings." No doubt. And I have a
conception of slovenly writing not merel