It is a log-cabin, like all of this class
(some far better ones have walls of stone) with a thatched roof and a
rough stone and mortar chimney planted against one wall. Inside is but a
single room, well whitewashed, as is indeed the outside and
exceptionally tidy; a bed occupies one corner, a sort of couch another,
a rung ladder leads up to loose boards overhead which form an attic, a
trap door in the middle of the room opens to a small hole in the ground
where milk and butter are kept cool; from the beam is suspended a
hammock, used as a cradle for the baby; shelves singularly hung held a
scanty stock of plates, knives and forks; two windows on either side,
covered with mosquito netting, admit the light, and a modicum of air;
chests and boxes supply the place of seats, with here and there a keg by
way of easy-chair. An open fireplace of whitewashed clay gives sign of
cheer and warmth in the long winter, and a half-dozen books for library
complete the scene.
Our hosts feel so "highly honored to have such gentlemen enter the
house"--these are their very words--that it is with the greatest
difficulty they are forced to take any compensation for the excellent
meal of bread, butter, and rich cream which they set before us, and to
which we do ample justice.
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