for cider-making. Here, straw in mouth, he and the neighbors' boys lay
prone on their stomachs on the great beams and sucked their fill of
the freshly squeezed cider as it flowed down the smooth grooves in the
planks to the waiting barrels below.

Beyond the cider mill was the old orchard, with its Rainbow and Sheep-
nose apple trees; then the garden in one corner of which grew black
currants and yellow raspberry bushes; and near by the low red brick
smoke-house, from which many a piece of dried beef had been slyly
removed to stay his hunger between meals.

Just beyond was the white farmhouse, nestling among the apple trees,
the front to the west and facing on the lane that led up to a farm
above. The house had a one-story ell on the end toward him, containing
the kitchen and pantry--this ell projected back almost to the
smokehouse. On the opposite side, but hidden from his view, there was
a wide porch running the full length of house and ell, and in the
angle formed by the porch, stood the well with its home-made pump.

The water from this well, he recalled, had a peculiar mineral taste,
with a strong flavor of sulphur--a taste he did not like. He had never
been so tired that he would not go to the spring up on the side of
"Old Round Top" for a pail of water, rather than drink from this well.
Back of the house, but within the enclosure formed by the picket
fence, was the wood and tool shed--while just beyond stood the old-
fashioned bank barn and other farm buildings. There was a short steep
hill just beyond the barn, down which the lane wound to a mill pond
below. An old sawmill with an undershot water-wheel stood at the
extreme south-east corner of the farm, diagonally opposite.