But I can give you a better idea of the geography of Brookdale by the aid of a little map, which will show you at a glance an outline of the objects which Whistler saw from the hill, and also some things which he could not see from that position. The house numbered 1 is Mr. Davenport’s, and behind it is the hill from which Whistler obtained his view. No. 2 is Mr. Preston’s house, and No. 3 is the schoolhouse. The map shows the position of the lake, the river, and the brook near Mr. Davenport’s house. It also shows the Cross Roads village, and the principal roads passing through the town.
CHAPTER III.
A MORNING’S WORK.
CLINTON’S chamber, which Whistler was to share during his stay in Brookdale, was one of the most curious rooms in the house. It was in the second story, on the west side of the house,—the side represented as nearest to the spectator in the engraving on page 30. It had two windows, one on the west, and the other—a luthern, or dormer window,—looking towards the south. The room was of pretty good size, but was low studded, the pitch of the roof bringing the ceiling so far down, on the sides, that a boy twelve years old could not stand up straight under it. This made it seem like a garret to Whistler, who had always slept in a large, airy chamber; but the walls were plastered and papered, and the room was in all other respects comfortably finished. It had a neat and cosy air, however, which, in spite of its low ceiling, won rapidly upon the city boy’s regards. The tastes and habits of its occupant were reflected in nearly every article. The bed, chairs and table, were such as you might find in almost any boy’s chamber; but the extras that you do not find in every body’s room were quite numerous.
The first thing that attracted Whistler’s notice was a neat little box upon the table, made of maple. On turning over the top, it was transformed into a portable writing-desk, and was found to be supplied with pens, ink and paper. This, Clinton informed him, was a birthday present from his father, who made it. A small book-rack, with three shelves, was fastened to the wall, and held Clinton’s little library. The books were mostly of a juvenile order, and among them were several that Whistler had sent to him in former years. The rack itself was of Clinton’s own workmanship, and was very neatly made. Upon the upper shelf, which held no books, there was another specimen of his handiwork, in the shape of a full-rigged schooner, with sails spread and flag flying. Brought up in an inland town, and never having seen the salt water but once or twice, Clinton knew but little about vessels. And yet he had built quite a respectable schooner; although, to the more experienced eye of Whistler, the model was not of the most approved clipper style. The name, “Dolphin,” was painted on the stern.
A number of engravings, of various degrees of merit, were attached by pins to the walls of Clinton’s room. Pasted upon the wall, around the looking-glass, there was a whole constellation of small pictures, which evidently had once figured in newspapers and handbills. The windows were furnished with paper curtains, which, judging from the quantity of pulleys, fish-bone rings, cords, and other rigging attached, were evidently put up by Clinton with an eye rather to ingenuity than simplicity of arrangement.
Such was the room to which Clinton introduced his cousin, when the family retired at night. After glancing at the various objects I have described, Whistler noticed a slate and several school books upon the table, and inquired:
“When do you study your lessons, Clinton? Have you got to get one this evening?”
“No,” he replied; “I’m going to have a vacation now. Father thinks I had better suspend my studies while you are here, so that I may have as much time to spend with you as possible. I am going to arrange my work, too, so that it won’t take so much of my time.”