Page 24 - Fairbrass

warm and cosy in winter, bright and cheery
in spring, cool and restful in summer, and

especially in vicing in autumn, when great
logs of wood spluttered and crackled on old

iron fire-dogs, and it was delicious to nestle
in ingle-nooks and lazily watch flickering

flames dancing about in the shining old
Dutch tiles. Daintily and tastefully furnished

it was, too, and full of books, pictures, and
curiosities which Fatrbrass’s father had

collected in the days before his marriage,
and of which he was at one time very proud.

The glory of the Little House, however f
was its garden. Not a very large garden__

not by any means that terrible thing, a Maid
o u t’garden (the very words ‘laid out’ make

one think of a funeral), but a pretty, an old-
fashioned, a sweet-scented, and, above all, a

purposeful garden. Grass-pathed and well
stocked it was, and flowers and vegetables

pretty equally shared the rich and warm-
coloured soil between them. Sloping down to

a rippling stream that formed its boundary,
and on the other side of which was an