(no subject)
When I am at home, I am more often than not in my library--as fine a one as you will find out in the country... It is in the third story of a tower, and was formerly a large storeroom and the most useless place in the house. The first story is my chapel. The second, a bedroom with closet, where I frequently sleep in order to be alone. Every morning and evening a great bell rings out, the noise shakes the very tower, and at first I thought I could never stand it. But now I am so used to it that I hear it without any manner of offense, and often without waking.
My library is round in shape. The only flat stretch of wall is behind my table and chair; and so with one glance I can view all my thousand books about me, curving in rows five shelves high. The room is sixteen paces clear in diameter, and its three windows open on wide and noble porches.
I am not there so continuously in winter, for it is the windiest spot in the house. But I like it for being remote and rather of a climb, because of both the exercise it affords, and the seclusion.
My library is round in shape. The only flat stretch of wall is behind my table and chair; and so with one glance I can view all my thousand books about me, curving in rows five shelves high. The room is sixteen paces clear in diameter, and its three windows open on wide and noble porches.
I am not there so continuously in winter, for it is the windiest spot in the house. But I like it for being remote and rather of a climb, because of both the exercise it affords, and the seclusion.