But now that we know that How and Why are two very different matters, and must not be confounded with each other, let us look for Madam How, and see her at work making this little glen; for, as I told you, it is not half made yet.  One thing we shall see at once, and see it more and more clearly the older we grow; I mean her wonderful patience and diligence.  Madam How is never idle for an instant.  Nothing is too great or too small for her; and she keeps her work before her eye in the same moment, and makes every separate bit of it help every other bit.  She will keep the sun and stars in order, while she looks after poor old Mrs. Daddy-long-legs there and her eggs.  She will spend thousands of years in building up a mountain, and thousands of years in grinding it down again; and then carefully polish every grain of sand which falls from that mountain, and put it in its right place, where it will be wanted thousands of years hence; and she will take just as much trouble about that one grain of sand as she did about the whole mountain.  She will settle the exact place where Mrs. Daddy-long-legs shall lay her eggs, at the very same time that she is settling what shall happen hundreds of years hence in a stair millions of miles away.  And I really believe that Madam How knows her work so thoroughly, that the grain of sand which sticks now to your shoe, and the weight of Mrs. Daddy-long-legs’ eggs at the bottom of her hole, will have an effect upon suns and stars ages after you and I are dead and gone.  Most patient indeed is Madam How.  She does not mind the least seeing her own work destroyed; she knows that it must be destroyed.  There is a spell upon her, and a fate, that everything she makes she must unmake again:  and yet, good and wise woman as she is, she never frets, nor tires, nor fudges her work, as we say at school.  She takes just as much pains to make an acorn as to make a peach.  She takes just as much pains about the acorn which the pig eats, as about the acorn which will grow into a tall oak, and help to build a great ship.  She took just as much pains, again, about the acorn which you crushed under your foot just now, and which you fancy will never come to anything.  Madam How is wiser than that.  She knows that it will come to something.  She will find some use for it, as she finds a use for everything.  That acorn which you crushed will turn into mould, and that mould will go to feed the roots of some plant, perhaps next year, if it lies where it is; or perhaps it will be washed into the brook, and then into the river, and go down to the sea, and will feed the roots of some plant in some new continent ages and ages hence:  and so Madam How will have her own again.  You dropped your stick into the river yesterday, and it floated away.  You were sorry, because it had cost you a great deal of trouble to cut it, and peel it, and carve a head and your name on it.  Madam How was not sorry, though she had taken a great deal