veriest bumpkin, on entering an apartment so bedizzened, would be
instantly aware of something wrong, although he might be altogether unable
to assign a cause for his dissatisfaction. But let the same person be led
into a room tastefully furnished, and he would be startled into an
exclamation of pleasure and surprise.

It is an evil growing out of our republican institutions, that here a
man of large purse has usually a very little soul which he keeps in it.
The corruption of taste is a portion or a pendant of the dollar-manufac
sure. As we grow rich, our ideas grow rusty. It is, therefore, not among
_our _aristocracy that we must look (if at all, in Appallachia), for the
spirituality of a British _boudoir. _But we have seen apartments in the
tenure of Americans of moderns [possibly "modest" or "moderate"] means,
which, in negative merit at least, might vie with any of the _or-molu'd
_cabinets of our friends across the water. Even _now_, there is present to
our mind's eye a small and not, ostentatious chamber with whose
decorations no fault can be found. The proprietor lies asleep on a sofa -
the weather is cool - the time is near midnight: arc will make a sketch of
the room during his slumber.

It is oblong - some thirty feet in length and twenty-five in breadth -
a shape affording the best(ordinary) opportunities for the adjustment of
furniture. It has but one door - by no means a wide one - which is at one
end of the parallelogram, and but two windows, which are at the other.
These latter are large, reaching down to the floor - have deep recesses -
and open on an Italian _veranda. _Their panes are of a crimson-tinted
glass, set in rose-wood framings, more massive than usual. They are
curtained within the recess, by a thick silver tissue adapted to the shape
of the window, and hanging loosely in small volumes. Without the recess
are curtains of an exceedingly rich crimson silk, fringed with a deep