THE FARM-HOUSE. 265 



which reached close up to the gable-end of the house. Opposite 

 the house was a cider-mill, cart-sheds, and some stacks ; behind 

 it, a large yard, surrounded by stables, sties, dairy-house, malt- 

 house, granary, etc. Into this enclosure we passed by a great 

 gate. A considerable part of it was occupied by" a large heap 

 of manure and a pool of green, stagnant liquid. The buildings , 

 were mostly old, some of them a good deal decayed, with cracks 

 in the brick-work, timber bending and sustained by props and 

 other patch-work, which spoke better for the tenant than his 

 landlord. 



By a wide open door, directly from this filthy yard, we passed 

 without ceremony into the kitchen a large, long room, with 

 stone floor, black beams across the low ceiling, from which hung 

 sides and hams of pork, a high settle, as usual, but not the ordi- 

 nary kitchen display of bright metal and crockery. Old and 

 well worn, every tlu'ng, but neat and nice as brand-new. On a 

 table was a huge loaf with a large piece of cold fat bacon and a 

 slice of cheese, and directly a maid came up from the cellar and 

 added to these a pint of foaming beer dinner or supper for the 

 carter just returning from the town, whither he had gone early 

 in the morning with a load of wool, and had now brought back 

 bone-manure. 



We are seated in a little parlor, and the "wench," as our friend 

 addresses her (a buxom serving-maid), goes to call the mistress. 

 The parlor is a small room neatly furnished ; painted deal chairs, 

 a printed-calico-covered lounge, the floor carpeted, and the walls 

 papered ; an oak writing-desk, a table and a sewing-stand ; no 

 newspapers or books, but a family-bible on the mantel and an 

 almanac on the desk : a door and a window open from it upon 

 the flower-garden. 



In a few minutes the mistress enters, and, after kindly receiv- 

 ing us, rings a bell, and, when the maid comes, gives her a key 



