SHEPHERDSTOWN, ON THE POTOMAC. 1)9 



having had to wait, Avith the alternative of eating her supper alone 

 if she became too hungry to wait longer. We forgot our squabbles 

 over a good, hot supper, and we had a pleasant evening, after all, 

 though it was short, and when I went up stairs at the end of it, I 

 was happier, or at any rate more contented than I had thought, at 

 one time, I ever could be again, and this though I carried a dip — I 

 beg its pardon — a mould candle, and retired to a room very different 

 from any I had ever slept in before last Autumn. 



The room was large and bare, evidently intended only for sleeping 

 and dressing purposes ; but admirably adapted for those purposes, 

 the bed being much more luxurious than any I had ever slept in be- 

 fore ; and the old-fashioned dressing-table, a perfect miracle of white 

 muslin, ruffling and lace, furnished every comfort and luxury. There 

 was a large basin on the wash-stand, but no pitcher; instead of 

 which, standing by the wash-stand on a wooden chair, there was a 

 large bucket full of water with a dipper in it. There was matting 

 on the floor and two or three chairs about the room ; these, with the 

 bureau and mirror, completed the furniture. Everything Avas in- 

 tensely clean, but there was the same air of shabbiness over all. 

 Nothing was new, or nearly new. The matting was of two kinds, and 

 every breadth was pieced. The white counterpane was thin and old, 

 and the paint was scoured off of everything that could be scoured. 

 The windoAvs (there were three with old-fashioned chintz curtains), 

 and doors (there were too), were loosely hung, and rattled with the 

 slightest wind. 



I sat for a long time, that night, looking out on the dim starlit 

 fields, which stretched away toward the Town, until I was startled 

 by the church clock striking twelve, which was deepest night here in 

 this country place. What a sweet, solemn sound it was! reminding 

 me somehow of what a peaceful haven I had drifted into after the 

 miserable storms of last year. I thought of this as I made ready for 

 bed, moving softly about the room in a vain endeavor to keep every 

 board in the room from creaking; and I fell asleep presently, listen- 

 ing to the wind sighing past my window and thinking idly that it 

 was for the old time, and not for the new. 



But every one in this world must "dree his weird," and Shepherds- 

 town though almost was not quite, out of the world, and the day was 

 not far off when the loudest din that ever shook the greatest city of 

 the Union would be but child's play to the storm that would roar 

 through these quiet streets. 



