COTTAGES AND COTTAGE LIFE. 



179 



REVIEWS. 



Cottages and Cottage Life : containing Plans 

 for Country Houses, &c., with some Sketches of 

 Life in this Country. By C. W. Elliott. Cii> 

 cinnati, H. W. Derby k. Co. New- York, A. S. 

 Barnes &. Co. 1 vol., 8vo., 226 pages. 

 This is the first volume on architecture 

 from the western " Alleghania," and we 

 hail it with pleasure, as an evidence of 

 more than a dawning taste in rural embel- 

 lishment. In a country where tens of thou- 

 sands of human habitations, in some shape 

 or other, are built every year, — where, in 

 fact, the great business of life is to " settle" 

 and build, in some mode or other, it is not 

 a matter of indifference how building is 

 performed. 



It is a handsomely executed and inviting 

 looking actavo, which comes to us from 

 Cincinnati, intended for the assistance of 

 those who are interested in " Cottages and 

 Cottage Life," 



The plan of the author, so far as we are 

 able to gather it, from a perusal of his work, 

 appears to have been rather to draw the 

 attention of readers generally to the sub- 

 ject, than to furnish a careful or complete 

 practical work on rural architecture. Only 

 a small part of the work is, therefore, de- 

 voted to cottage architecture, strictly speak- 

 ing, while the bulk of the volume is com- 

 posed of sketches of country life. Perhaps, 

 therefore, the author would have conveyed 

 to the .uninitiated public a juster idea of 

 the character of his work if he had called 

 it — " Cottage Life, 2oith Plans of Cottagesy 

 These sketches of cottage life form a 

 continuous narration of about 200 pages, 

 and are full of spirited hits and droll allu- 

 sions to many of the existing peculiarities 

 of social and domestic life in this country; 

 and, we suppose, are especially character- 



istic of life and manners in many parts of 

 the west. 



We cannot, perhaps, give a better idea 

 of the style of this portion of the work, 

 which is both piquant and original, than by 

 the following extract: — 



'' Yer dinner is ready, Miss Grace Ellison," said 

 the new girl, through an opening in the door. 



As the Ellisons proposed to live in the country, 

 they had thought it best, as soon as possible, to 

 get help there ; and, in the village, near by, had 

 found this girl, and a sort of cousin, who said he 

 understood horses, farming, and in fact could do 

 anything. They, also, had but recently arrived 

 there, from what was decidedly rural, where woods 

 and wilderness were sweetly blended. 



" Bless my soul," said Mr. Scranton. as he pulled 

 out his large watch, " half past eleven !" 



He looked inquiringly at Grace. 



'• How is this ?" said Uncle Tom. 



"Perceptible unsophistication," said Ned, "on 

 the part of some members of this family. Quite a 

 child of nature, Grace seems to have met with ; 

 one of those sweet minglings of milk-pails and rose- 

 bugs of which we read, eh ?" 



'• Ned will remain quiet," said Grace, " and the 

 rest of you will continue your conversation 'till I 

 make a report." 



She found a dinner, but it was a strange one, and 

 strangely put on ; the poor chickens lay untrussed, 

 with wings extended, and legs aloft in helpless 

 amazement. Two little dishes of boiled parsley 

 flanked these, which Jemima said she was ashamed 

 of, 'twas "so scrimpy.'' The fish's tail, severed 

 from his well stuffed body, lay in his mouth, like a 

 sweet bait, instead of bending to it, as Grace had 

 ordered. Each knife stood erect as a horse guard, 

 in its piece of bread. There was an evident at- 

 tempt at grandeur, but it only reached the remarka- 

 ble. In all difficult cases one must "compromise." 

 Grace did so, by calling for Jemima, who had de- 

 serted the kitchen. She answered, saying — "I 

 was baptised Jemima Jane." "Well, then, Jemi- 

 ma Jane, what could have induced you to get din- 

 ner at this time of day?" 



"Why, law!" she replied, evidently surprised, 

 and relieved of some anxiety respecting her cook- 

 ing, " the sun's past the door-crack, and we always 

 had dinner then, to our house j we did'nt drag 

 along, slip-shod, all day." 



" Well," said Grace, who saw that she was ac- 

 tive, and meant well, " come in, and we will re- 

 arrange things." 



" I cant, before all them men. I must put on 

 my other things — slick up a little-" 



Grace assured her that the men were not there, 

 and that her other things would add nothing to the 

 festive board. She proceeded to relieve the knives 



