CARE FREE DAYS 



261 



The Continental's Cabin. 



Tiny Cote fitted its name, for it was really the tiniest house 

 I ever built. While tramping back in the hills I came across a 

 settler's cabin that antedated the Revolutionary War. It was on a 

 lonely road, but no architect of the present day could give better 

 proportion to roof and wall line than the Connecticut Continental 

 who cut the logs and raised the roof-tree of this little cabin. Pacing 

 it, the measurements quickly went into my memorandum book, and 

 within a week Tiny Cote was well under way on the shore of the 

 Sound. Two rooms, a garret, reached by a wall ladder, a stone fire- 

 place, and a veranda inventoried its accommodations, but never did 

 two hundred and fifty dollars give larger returns. Racked nerves 

 that craved the simple life found it in this little cabin. The dinghy's 

 painter was tied to one of its cedar foundation posts and there was 

 fairly satisfactory fishing from the veranda, on the incoming tide. 



CRAGS. 



A cosy house is Crags, perched on a veritable crag, its front 

 half hidden in the shade of a sprawling cedar large enough for robins 

 to nest in when the Mayflower entered Plymouth Harbor. Through 

 the Dutch door we enter the hospitable living room which adjoins 

 the library, arranged to be changed to a bedroom, if desired, as it 

 also opens to the veranda. A burnt wood panel screened 

 the stair grille and double doors closed the arched opening to the 

 living room. The dining room with fireplace was at one side of 

 the living room. Stairs have barely a 6^4 inch rise and lead to a 

 w T indow r ed stair-landing large enough for a grandfather's clock. Stair 



