reflection, that it is the most un-English thing I have seen yet: and I
have not forgotten those strange railway carriages either.

"Try to imagine a large room, longer than it is deep, at once
living-room, dining-room and kitchen; with nothing but rough brown
boards for walls, on which--some framed, some unframed--are the colored
supplements of the Christmas illustrated papers, both English and
American. Over one of the doors is a magnificent trophy--at least that
is what we would call it at home--I think it is a moose. I am not at all
sure, although I have been told more than once. Over another door is a
large clock, such a one as one finds in a broker's office with us. The
floor is covered with what is called oilcloth--I wonder why: it
certainly is not the least like cloth--very new and excessively shiny.
It has a conventional pattern in black and white, and when the sun
shines on it, it quite dazzles one's eyes.

"There are two windows, one to the south, the other looking west. The
western view is magnificent. I feel as if I could see straight away to
the setting sun! In the summer, when the prairie is one great waving
green sea, it must be superb. Two days ago it was covered with snow. As
I write, I can see great patches of brown every here and there, for we
have had a sudden thaw. The window sills are filled with geraniums
planted, my dear, in tins which once contained syrup, of which everyone
here, including my brother, seems extravagantly fond. The syrup jug
appears regularly at every meal and is almost the first thing put on the
table. I have yet to acquire a taste for it--which they all think
extremely queer.

"The furniture consists of two American rockers and a number of kitchen
chairs; an unvarnished deal dresser covered with earthenware;--I don't