d as Ascutney from
the Dartmouth green. A wide gap through miles of woods had opened this
distant view, and showed more, perhaps, than all the labors of the
architect and the landscape-gardener the large style of the early
Dudleys.

The great stone-chimney of the mansion-house was the centre from which
all the artificial features of the scene appeared to flow. The roofs,
the gables, the dormer-windows, the porches, the clustered offices in
the rear, all seemed to crowd about the great chimney. To this
central pillar the paths all converged. The single poplar behind the
house,--Nature is jealous of proud chimneys, and always loves to put
a poplar near one, so that it may fling a leaf or two down its black
throat every autumn,--the one tall poplar behind the house seemed to nod
and whisper to the grave square column, the elms to sway their branches
towards it. And when the blue smoke rose from its summit, it seemed to
be wafted away to join the azure haze which hung around the peak in the
far distance, so that both should bathe in a common atmosphere.

Behind the house were clumps of lilacs with a century's growth upon
them, and looking more like trees than like shrubs. Shaded by a group of
these was the ancient well, of huge circuit, and with a low arch opening
out of its wall about ten feet below the surface,--whether the door of a
crypt for the concealment of treasure, or of a subterranean passage, or
merely of a vault for keeping provisions cool in hot weather, opinions
differed.

On looking at the house, it was plain that it was built with Old-World
notions of strength and durability, and, so far as might be, with
Old-World materials. The hinges of the doors stretched out like arms,
instead of like hands, as we make them. The bolts were massive enough
for a donjon-keep. The small window-panes were actually inclosed in the
wood of the sashes instead of being stuck to them with putty, as in our
modern windows. The broad staircase was of easy ascent, and was guarded
by quaintly turned and twisted balusters. The ceilings of the two rooms
of state were moulded with medallion-portraits and rustic figures,
such as may have been seen by many readers in the famous old Philipse
house,--Washington's head-quarters,--in the town of Yorkers. The
fire-places, worthy of the wide-throated central chimney, were bordered
by pictured tiles, some of them with Scripture stories, some with
Watteau-like figures,--tall damsels in slim wai