下载掌阅APP，畅读海量书库
立即打开
The naming goes recklessly on, in spite of anything I can do. I had a very good name for the estate, and it was musical and pretty—Garden of Eden. Privately, I continue to call it that, but not any longer publicly. The new creature says it is all woods and rocks and scenery, and therefore has no resemblance to a garden. Says it looks like a park, and does not look like anything but a park. Consequently, without consulting me, it has been new-named—Niagara Falls Park. This is sufficiently high-handed, it seems to me. And already there is a sign up:
My life is not as happy as it was.