at palace?
The only matter of surprise to the Lady of Shalott was that the palace
itself did not smoke. Sometimes, when Sary Jane hit the rafters, she was
sure that she saw sparks.

As for Sary Jane's voice, when one knew that she made nankeen vests at
sixteen and three quarters cents a dozen, that was a matter of no
surprise. It never surprised the Lady of Shalott.

But Sary Jane was very cross; there was no denying that; very cross.

And the palace. Let me tell you about the palace. It measured just
twelve by nine feet. It would have been seven feet post,--if there had
been a post in the middle of it. From the centre it sloped away to the
windows, where Sary Jane had just room enough to sit crooked under the
eaves at work. There were two windows and a loose scuttle to let in the
snow in winter and the sun in summer, and the rain and wind at all times.
It was quite a diversion to the Lady of Shalott to see how many
different ways of doing a disagreeable thing seemed to be practicable to
that scuttle. Besides the bed on which the Lady of Shalott lay, there
was a stove in the palace, two chairs, a very ragged rag-mat, a shelf
with two notched cups and plates upon it, one pewter teaspoon, and a
looking-glass. On washing-days Sary Jane climbed upon the chair and hung
her clothes out through the scuttle on the roof; or else she ran a
little rope from one of the windows to the other for a drying-rope. It
would have been more exact to have said on washing-nights; for Sary Jane
always did her washing after dark. The reason was evident. If the rest
of us were in the habit of wearing all the clothes we had, like Sary
Jane, I have little doubt that we should do the same.

I should mention that there was no sink in the Lady of Shalott's palace;
no water. There was a dirty hydrant in the yard, four flights below,
which supplied the Lady of Shalott and all her neighbors. The Lady of
Shalott kept her coal under the bed; her flour, a pound at a time, in a
paper parcel, on the shelf, with the teacups and the pewter spoon. If
she had anything else to keep, it went out through the palace scuttle
and lay on the roof. The Lady of Shalott's palace opened directly upon a
precipice. The lessor of the house called it a flight of stairs. When
Sary Jane went up and down she went sidewise to preserve her balance.
There were no bannisters to the precipice, and about once a week a baby
patronized the rat-trap, instead. Once, when there was a fir