arn
raising." It would be but friendly to call and enquire for him. The
house is one of the best description of log buildings. The ground floor
contains two large apartments and a spacious porch, which extends along
the front, has the dairy in one end and a workshop in the other, that
most useful adjunct to a New Brunswick dwelling, where the settlers are
often their own blacksmiths and carpenters, as well as splint pounders
and shingle weavers. The walls are raised high enough to make the
chamber sufficiently lofty, and the roof is neatly shingled. As we
enter, an air of that undefinable English ideality--comfort--seems
diffused, as it were, in the atmosphere of the place. There is a look of
retirement about the beds, which stand in dim recesses of the inner
apartment, with their old but well-cared-for chintz hangings, differing
from the free uncurtained openness of the blue nose settler's couch; a
publicity of sleeping arrangements being common all over America, and
much disliked by persons from the old countries, a bed being a prominent
piece of furniture in the sitting and keeping rooms of even those
aristocratic personages, the first settlers. The large solid-looking
dresser, which extends nearly along one side of the house, differs too
from the light shelf of the blue nose, which rests no more crockery than
is absolutely necessary. Here there is a wide array of dishes, large and
small--old China tea-cups, wisely kept for show,--little funny mugs,
curious pitchers, mysterious covered dishes, unearthly salad bowls, and
a host of superannuated tea-pots. Above them is ranged a bright copper
kettle, a large silvery pewter basin, and glittering brazen
candlesticks, all brought from their English home, and borne through
toil and danger, like sacred relics, from the shrine of the household
gods. The light of the fire is reflected on the polished surface of a
venerable oaken bureau, whose unwieldy form has also come o'er the deep
sea, being borne along the creeks and rivers of New Brunswick, and
dragged through forest paths to its present resting place. In the course
of its wanderings by earth and ocean it has become minus a foot, the
loss of which is supplied by an unsmoothed block of pine, the two
forming not an inapt illustration of their different countries. The
polished oaken symbol of England receiving assistance in its hour of
need from the rude but hardy pine emblem of New Brunswick. The room is
cool and quiet; the