Mr rouse has decided to build himself a house. Inevitably, the process is much longer and more detailed than Mr rouse initially envisages: Mr Builder, I m not a bird, you know; how could I live in a house made of leaves? This quirky tale takes the reader through a timeline of inventions. In a wonderful blend of absurd poetry and British pragmatism, Mr rouse contends with housing, transport, lighting, plumbing and timekeeping, encountering quarrelling stairs and dapper guttering on his way.
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