The
wall-paper was stained and faded, the paint on the soft-wood floor worn
through in streaks; there was an iron bed--a double bed, painted light
blue and lashed with string where one of its joints showed a disposition
to pull out. The mattress on the bed was lumpy. There was a
dingy-looking oak bureau with a rather small but pretty good plate-glass
mirror on it; a marble topped, black walnut wash-stand; a pitcher of the
plainest and cheapest white ware standing in a bowl on top of it, and a
highly ornate, hand-painted slop-jar--the sole survivor, evidently, of a
much prized set--under the lee of it. The steep gable of the roof cut
away most of one side of the room, though there would be space for
Rose's trunk to stand under it, and across the corner, at a curiously
distressing angle, hung an inadequate curtain that had five or six
clothes hooks behind it.
In the foreground of the view out of the window, was a large oblong
plateau--the flat roof of an extension which had casually been attached
to the front of the building and carried it forward to the sidewalk over
what had once been a small front yard.
Pages:
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395