ite by grabbing.
I could wish at times that they were a little more conscious of their
noses. We cannot, try how we will, get wholly rid of fleas, because
fleas flourish in beaches, boats and nets. There are several things
here to turn one's gorge, until prejudices are put aside and the matter
regarded scientifically. For, as one may see, the effective cleanliness
of this household strikes a subtle balance between more contending
needs than can be fully traced out. If, for instance, Mrs Widger came
down earlier and scrupulously swept the house, her temper would suffer
later on in the day. If she did not sometimes 'let things rip,' and
take leisure, her health, and with it the whole delicate organisation
of the household, would go wrong. Of a morning, I observe she has
neck-shadows. Horrid! Perhaps, but being a wise woman, pressed always
for time, she postpones her proper wash until the dirty work is done.
Were we to kill off the wauling cats which make such a mess of the
garden, the neighbourhood would lose its best garbingers. Baked dinner
is never so tasty as when the tin, hot from the oven, is placed upon a
folded newspaper on the table. Tony and the children tear fish apart
with their fingers. It does not look nice, but that is the reason why
they never get bones in their throats, for, as a fish-eating
instrument, sensitive fingers are much superior to cutlery and plate,
and so on....

I used to think that I was pigging it here. Now I do not.[12]

[12] On the moral aspect of cleanliness I have not touched. Miss
M. Loane, a Queen's Nurse, in her remarkable book _The Next
Street but One_, observes "Cleanliness has often seemed to me
strangely far from godliness. Where the virtue is highly
developed there is often not merely an actual but an absolute
shrinkage in all sweet neighbourly charities. If an invalid's
bedroom needs scrubbing and there is no money to pay for the
service, or if a chronic sufferer's kitchen is in want of a
'thorough good do-out,' if two or three troublesome children have
to be housed and fed during the critical days after an operation
on father or mother, do I look for assistance from 'the cleanest
woman in the street?' Alas, no; whether she be wife, widow, or
spinster, I pass her by, careful not to tread on her pavement,
much less her doorstep, and seek the happy-go-lucky person whose
own premises would