fire, while waiting for dinner. It was a dim
little room, uncarpeted, and poorly furnished with a looking glass, a
map, and a few wooden chairs, and ornamented by a 'mourning piece,'
which hung over the mantel, representing a bareheaded lady with a
handkerchief at her eyes, standing beside a monument under a weeping
willow.

But the open fire was a sight worth seeing in those days. How it roared
and blazed and crackled and hissed and diffused its hospitable warmth
and ruddy glow all over the little brown room! How cheerfully it
contrasted with the storm without!

Dinner was soon announced, and as Mr. K.'s last injunction had been to
'be sure to eat, whether I wished to or not,' I prepared to pass through
the first ordeal of eating against my inclination. There was little to
excite appetite. The room was browner and dimmer than the one we had
just left; the table was spread with a coarse brown cloth; the bread was
brown, not honest 'rye and Indian,' but tawny-colored wheat, and sour at
that; the thick uncomely slices of corned beef were brown too, and the
dishes and plates were all brown. The Englishman looked despondingly on
the repast, and ventured to inquire if the landlady, a quiet body in a
brown dress, had any eggs.

'Yes,' she replied, with a strong nasal twang, 'but they ain't very
fresh. I shud be 'fraid to resk b'ilin' 'em. I could fry some, ef yer
liked.'

'It's of no consequence, madam,' said the Englishman; but the good
woman, bent on being accommodating, and observing, ''Twouldn't take but
a minute to do 'em,' disappeared into the kitchen, and returned in an
incredibly short space of time with a plate of eggs swimming in grease.
I did the best I could to obey my husband's orders, but with poor
success.

We were soon on our way again. At every solitary house along the road we
stopped to leave a mailbag. Whom could the letters be for? we wondered.

At one place a pretty girl ran out bareheaded through the snow to take
the mail. She was neatly dressed, and wore a pretty, bright-colored
'Sontag' over her shoulders, but she spoiled her good looks by chewing
vigorously a mouthful of spruce gum, a custom which prevails in this
region, probably borrowed from the Indians.

Here we met the 'return stage' from Bangor--a rough, uncovered sleigh.
There were two or three province men in it, whom the Englishman
recognized.

'I say,' cried he, 'if you see any of my people, tell them you saw me
about three days