He produced from the box five or six plump little books, bound in commercial calf and vellum, and each fitted comfortably with its own little lock.
"Mind!" said the moral agriculturist, "I take no credit to myself for this: it is my nature to be orderly, and orderly I am.

I must have everything down in black and white, or I should go mad! Here is my commercial library: Daybook, Ledger, Book of Districts, Book of Letters, Book of Remarks, and so on.

Kindly throw your eye over any one of them.
I flatter myself there is no such thing as a blot, or a careless entry in it, from the first page to the last.

Look at this room--is there a chair out of place?
Not if I know it! Look at _me_.

Am I dusty?
am I dirty?
am I half shaved?
Am I, in brief, a speckless pauper, or am I not?
Mind! I take no credit to myself; the nature of the man, my dear girl--the nature of the man!" He opened one of the books.