everything lay about in a careless and neglected manner;--wheelbarrows
without their trundles--sacks for days under the rain that fell from
the eaves of the houses--other implements embedded in mud--car-houses
tumbling down--the pump without a handle--the garden-gate open, and the
pigs hard at work destroying the vegetables, and rooting up the garden
in all directions. In fact, the very animals about the house were
conscious of the character of the people, and acted accordingly. If one
of the dogs, for instance, was hunted at the pigs, he ran in an apparent
fury towards that which happened to be nearest him, which merely lifted
its head and listened for a time--the dog, with loud and boisterous
barking, seizing its ear, led it along for three or four yards in that
position, after which, upon the pig demurring to proceed any further,
he very quietly dropped it and trotted in again, leaving the destructive
animal to resume its depredations.

The house inside bore the same character. Winter and summer the
hall-door, which had long lost the knocker, lay hospitably open. The
parlor had a very equivocal appearance; for the furniture, though
originally good and of excellent materials, was stained and dinged and
hacked in a manner that denoted but little sense of care or cleanliness.
Many of the chairs, although not worn by age, wanted legs or backs,
evidently from ill-usage alone--the grate was without fire-irons--a
mahogany bookcase that stood in a recess to the right of the fireplace,
with glass doors and green silk blinds, had the glass all broken and
the silk stained almost out of its original color; whilst inside of
it, instead of books, lay a heterogeneous collection of garden seeds
in brown paper--an almanac of twenty years' standing, a dry ink-bottle,
some broken delf, and a large collection of blue-moulded shoes and
boots, together with an old blister of French flies, the lease of their
farm, and a great number of their receipts for rent. To crown all, the