CHAPTER SIXTH 



THE OLD KITCHEJJ DOOR 



'TpHE white porch, with its high roof and 

 * two severely plain pillars to support it; 

 the heavy door, with its ponderous knocker ; 

 the straggling sweetbrier at one side; the 

 forlorn yellow rose between the parlor win- 

 dows ; the grass that was too cold to wel- 

 come a dandelion ; the low box hedge, and 

 one huge box bush that never sheltered a 

 bird's nest ; all these were in front to 

 solemnly greet that terror of my early days, 

 company. 



To me these front-door features all meant, 

 and still mean, restraint ; but how different 

 the world that lingered about the old farm- 

 house kitchen door! There was no cold 

 formality there, but freedom, the healthy 

 freedom of old clothes, an old hat; ay, 

 even the luxury of an open-throated shirt 

 was allowed. 



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