“And this, please?” asked Jeanette, fingering a metal plate which seemed to be double, with a small lip-like opening at one side.
“That? You put hot water in there,” pointing to the opening, “and set plates on it to keep warm.”
They gazed admiringly at the lovely gate-legged tables, fire screen, hunting prints, and numerous other treasures; and then, through a door at the back of the room, entered a narrow hall which ran across the width of the house. On the opposite side opened the dining room, where one may order refreshments, and the library where the judge’s bookcases and desk are still standing. The woodwork of the hall was all painted in the peculiar Acadian blue; and from either end of the hall, there was a staircase leading to the rooms of the second floor.
“The judge built this house himself,” said the hostess, as they crossed the oval rugs of braided blue and green straw, and went up the quaint narrow stairs, “and he thought the rooms upstairs should be entirely separate; so here are the ones on the right side of the house. But you will have to go down again, and up the stairs at the other end of the hall, to get to the rooms on the left of the house.”
“How very funny!” exclaimed Nancy, as they peered into the cretonne-hung rooms, with their casement windows opening into the very tree tops, their four-poster beds, and old-fashioned pictures. In one room, apparently occupied by some favored individual, there was a tiny air-tight stove.
“Here is something I didn’t notice when we came up,” said Mrs. Bond, stopping on the landing on their way down, before a tall grandfather’s clock.
The place was a veritable treasure trove for anyone interested in antiques, and she and her husband were just reveling in their finds, examining every article closely, and showing that their hobby was no mere pose. They had a genuine love for old things.
“And here is another kind,” said her husband, pointing to the opposite wall, where hung a big, round clock with heavy weights dangling from it.
“Now, that’s just the kind of clock I always imagined the mouse must have run up,” cried Nancy, “although I never saw one before.”
“The mouse?” repeated Martha, in a puzzled tone. “What mouse?”