CHAPTER VIII
JEFF CLOSES THE BOOK
Ju Penrose was a mild sort of sun-worshipper. But he confined his
regard to the single blessings of light and warmth. Some of his
deity's idiosyncrasies were by no means blessings in his estimation.
He blamed the sun for the flies. He blamed it that it made necessary
the adoption of light cotton shirts, which required frequent washing.
He, furthermore, blamed it for the temperature of drinks in summer
time, in a place where no ice was procurable. This he regarded as
wholly unfair. Then, too, possessing something of an artistic eye, he
failed to appreciate the necessity for changing the delicate hues of
nature in spring to a monotonous summer tone by the overbearing process
of continuing its spring blessing _ad nauseam_. And as for winter, it
was perfectly ridiculous to turn off its "hot" tap when it was most
needed. Yes, there were moments when he certainly felt that he could
order matters far more pleasantly if he were given a free hand.
Still, just now winter was a long way off.
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