cried, seized with a sudden inspiration; "we ought to try to get
the end-house of a village. Then our house could be near the
neighbors, and our farm could stretch out a little way into the
country beyond us. Let us fix our minds upon such a house and I
believe we can get it."

So we fixed our minds, but in the course of a week or two we
unfixed them several times to allow the consideration of places,
which otherwise would have been out of range; and during one of
these intervals of mental disfixment we took a house.

It was not the end-house of a village, but it was in the outskirts
of a very small rural settlement. Our nearest neighbor was within
vigorous shouting distance, and the house suited us so well in
other respects, that we concluded that this would do. The house
was small, but large enough. There were some trees around it, and
a little lawn in front. There was a garden, a small barn and
stable, a pasture field, and land enough besides for small patches
of corn and potatoes. The rent was low, the water good, and no one
can imagine how delighted we were.

We did not furnish the whole house at first, but what mattered it?
We had no horse or cow, but the pasture and barn were ready for
them. We did not propose to begin with everything at once.

Our first evening in that house was made up of hours of unalloyed
bliss. We walked from room to room; we looked out on the garden
and the lawn; we sat on the little porch while I smoked.

"We were happy at Rudder Grange," said Euphemia; "but that was only