Errington, himself learned in books, was surprised to see so many
standard works in the library of one who professed to be nothing but a
Norwegian farmer, and his respect for the sturdy old _bonde_ increased.
There were no pictures in the room,--the wide lattice window on one
hand, looking out on the roses and pine-wood, and the other smaller one,
close to the entrance door, from which the Fjord was distinctly visible,
were sufficient pictures in themselves, to need no others. The furniture
was roughly made of pine, and seemed to have been carved by hand,--some
of the chairs were very quaint and pretty and would have sold in a
bric-a-brac shop for more than a sovereign apiece. On the wide
mantle-shelf was a quantity of curious old china that seemed to have
been picked up from all parts of the world,--most of it was undoubtedly
valuable. In one dark corner stood an ancient harp; then there was the
spinning-wheel,--itself a curiosity fit for a museum,--testifying dumbly
of the mistress of all these surroundings, and on the floor there was
something else,--something that both the young men were strongly
inclined to take possession of.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123