306 BATS OUT OF DOORS. 



season, from the hottest of midsummer suns, to him who 

 loves their shade. 



They built no houses in happy colonial days in which 

 the chimney was an inconspicuous feature, hidden in the 

 end wall, and very likely to prove a death-trap, through 

 the carelessness or cupidity of the contractor. On the 

 contrary, there was erected an enormous chimney, and 

 a cozy house was built surrounding it. "Blow, wind! 

 Come, wrack ! " it mattered not ; the chimney stood up 

 for the house, and never allowed even a hurricane to 

 harry it. 



Besides the fire-places — of which more anon — these 

 chimneys had other features of merit. The sustaining 

 arch in the cellar, in one case at least, had yearly stored 

 therein the choice barrels of cider that were not intended 

 for vinegar — there was no chance for change save for the 

 better as a beverage. And the weather-stained bricks 

 above the roof — they too are worthy of consideration. An 

 uncouth box-shaped mass, it is true, but beautiful of a 

 keen winter day, when, after a long tramp, one marks the 

 curling smoke. However gi'otesquely it shapes itself in 

 the upper air — whether it runs to hieroglyph or rune, it 

 matters not. For the chilled rambler it has but one 

 meaning — comfort. 



A vacant hearth is as repellent as a coffin. It is not 

 strange that in summer they are screened by fire-boards, 

 and these again by high-backed chairs. Stately chairs that 

 overtopped the surbase, and torturing to humanity to- 

 day, were shunned, I doubt not, in the good old times. 

 At least, I have never had a friend to remain long in one 

 of my great-grandmother's chairs. Occasionally a victim 

 drops into one, but only to squirm ; then he arises and 

 stares at the innocent-looking structure. I have never 

 heard any remarks, but the countenance, at such times. 



