Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 154: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

_ BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. 149 Silverlea without loss of time, and so with this end in view, I repaired to the kitchen to make the more intimate ac- quaintance of the housekeeper; leaving my mother gently swaying herself in a rocking-chair in the pretty parlor be- fore the window, and my father enjoying himself luxuri- ously in an arm-chair on the piazza, his eyes fixed compla- cently on his wife, his panama hat on the floor beside him, and his back against a leafy pillow—the picture of calm enjoyment. I found the kitchen, a low, wide, yellow-painted room, with three little square ‘windows, looking out upon a court, or hen-yard, as I supposed, from the quantity of feathered creatures croaking and cackling in noisy enjoyment of some scattered grain. A brisk fire made of wood crackled upon the stone hearth, and from the stone-oven alongside a savory steam was issuing through the corners of the iron door, which assailed my hungry nostrils irresistibly. “« Ah, Mrs. Haller, what a quaint-looking place!” I cried, taking a delighted survey; ‘‘and how strange and nice everytking is!” She was busy brightening sundry dish- covers to add to the already long row on the yellow wall, and she laid one down to look round and laugh. ‘‘T guess, miss, there’s plenty of life in you and never a taste of the blues! So you like my kitchen?” ‘““T am enchanted with it, Mrs. Haller. Is that the bench that the young farmers sit on when they come court- Ing in the evening?” She laughed softly. ‘‘ Little miss,” said she, ‘‘ they ain’t many come a-court- ing to Silverlea nowadays. I don’t know what they might have done if I was young and frolicsome, but age makes a difference, as I believe. No, indeed, miss. ‘T'here’s not been a young man inside this kitchen since old master died, except one young gentleman—and he thought little enough of courting.” ‘‘Didn’t he? Well, ’m going to establish a new regime. I am going to fill these halls with youth and jollity—these pegs with wide-awakes—that bench with rustic beaus!” ‘‘Y’m thinking our chaps round Ranelagh would feel rather shy of such a city miss as you—trom foreign parts to boot—so I’ve heard.” ‘‘[ should hit the heels of my Achilles. Get another COMICOOO S (©)