Sometimes all three abandon the theory of the secret closet and return to the genuine ground of attack--the unsightliness of so cumbrous a pile,with comments upon the great addition of room to be gained by its demolition,and the fine effect of the projected grand hall,and the convenience resulting from the collateral running in one direction and another of their various partitions.
Not more ruthlessly did the Three Powers partition away poor Poland,than my wife and daughters would fain partition away my chimney.
But seeing that,despite all,I and my chimney still smoke our pipes,my wife reoccupies the ground of the secret closet,enlarging upon what wonders are there,and what a shame it is,not to seek it out and explore it.
"Wife,"said I,upon one of these occasions,"why speak more of that secret closet,when there before you hangs contrary testimony of a master mason,elected by yourself to decide.
Besides,even if there were a secret closet,secret it should remain,and secret it shall.Yes,wife,here for once I must say my say.Infinite sad mischief has resulted from the profane bursting open of secret recesses.Though standing in the heart of this house,though hitherto we have all nestled about it,unsuspicious of aught hidden within,this chimney may or may not have a secret closet.But if it have,it is my kinsman's.To break into that wall,would be to break into his breast.And that wall-breaking wish of Momus I account the wish of a churchrobbing gossip and knave.Yes,wife,a vile eavesdropping varlet was Momus.""Moses?Mumps?Stuff with your mumps and Moses?"The truth is,my wife,like all the rest of the world,cares not a fig for philosophical jabber.In dearth of other philosophical companionship,I and my chimney have to smoke and philosophize together.And sitting up so late as we do at it,a mighty smoke it is that we two smoky old philosophers make.