Midland common. It was badly built and oddly furnished; the bed
was too short, the windows did not fit, the doors did not stay shut;
but it was as clean as soap and water and scrubbing could make it.
The three-quarters of an acre of garden were mainly devoted to the
culture of potatoes, though under the parlour window Mrs jimson
had a plot of sweet-smelling herbs, and lines of lank sunflowers
fringed the path that led to the front door. It was Mrs jimson who
received me as I descended from the station fly - a large red
woman with hair bleached by constant exposure to weather, clad in
a gown which, both in shape and material, seemed to have been
modelled on a chintz curtain. She was a good kindly soul, and as
proud as Punch of her house.

'We follow the simple life here, Mr Brand,' she said. 'You
must take us as you find us.'

I assured her that I asked for nothing better, and as I
unpacked in my fresh little bedroom with a west wind blowing in at
the window I considered that I had seen worse quarters.

I had bought in London a considerable number of books, for I
thought that, as I would have time on my hands, I might as well do
something about my education. They were mostly English classics,
whose names I knew but which I had never read, and they were all
in a little flat-backed series at a shilling apiece. I arranged them on
top of a chest of drawers, but I kept the _Pilgrim's _Progress beside my
bed, for that was one of my working tools and I had got to get it
by heart.

Mrs jimson, who came in while I was unpacking to see if