twenty houses lifted out of it, and vineyards established in their
places; and all the houses had an old-fashioned look, for almost
without exception they antedated the Mormon exodus.

The Livelies were set down in a street where the sand was over the
instep, before a stiff, graceless brick building, standing close up in
one corner of an acre lot. On one side, in view from the front gate,
was a dilapidated hen-house--on the other, a more unsightly stable
with a pig-sty attached. All the space between the house and
vineyard, in every direction, was strewn with corncobs and remnants
of haystacks, while straw and manure were banked against the house to
keep the cellar warm. In front was a walled sewer, through which the
town on the hill was drained, for the Livelies' new home was on "the
Flat," as the lower town is called. The view from the front took in
only a dreary hillside covered with decaying cornstalks.

The doctor moved a barrel-hoop which fastened the gate, and it
tottered over, and clung by one hinge to the worm-eaten post, from
which the decaying fence had fallen away. A hall ran through the
house, and on either side were two rooms. The second floor was a
duplicate of the first, so that the house contained eight small rooms,
nine by eleven feet, exactly alike, each with a huge fireplace. There
was not a pantry, a closet, a clothes-press, a shelf in the house. Not
a room was papered: all were covered with a coarse whitewash, smoked,
fly-specked and momently falling in great scales. The floors were
rough, knotty and warped; the wash-boards were rat-gnawed in every
direction; all the woodwork was unpainted and gray with age.

Two beds and a kitchen stove had been set up on the bare floors. On a
pine table in the cramped kitchen were a few dishes, tins and pails,