If Providence could be seen at all, he would probably turn out to be a
very disappointing person—a little wizened old gentleman with a cold in
his head, a red nose and a comforter round his neck, whistling o’er the
furrow’d land or crooning to himself as he goes aimlessly along the
streets, poking his way about and loitering continually at shop-windows
and second-hand book-stalls.