good-sized storeroom, in which F--- has just finished putting me up
some cupboards, and a servants' room. It is not a palace is it?
But it is quite large enough to hold a great deal of happiness.
Outside, the premises are still more diminutive; a little wash-house
stands near the kitchen door, and further up the enclosure is a
stable, and a small room next it for saddles, and a fowl-house and
pig-stye, and a coal-shed. Now you know everything about my
surroundings; but--there is always a _but_ in everything--I have one
great grievance, and I hope you will appreciate its magnitude.

It was impossible for F--- to come up here when the house was first
commenced, and the wretch of a builder deliberately put the drawing-
and dining-room fireplaces in the corner, right up against the
partition wall, of course utterly destroying the comfort as well as
the symmetry of the rooms. I am convinced some economy of bricks is
at the bottom of this arrangement, especially as the house was built
by contract; but the builder pretends to be surprised that I don't
admire it, and says, "Why, it's so oncommon, mum!" I assure you,
when I first saw the ridiculous appearance of the drawing-room
pier-glass in the corner, I should liked to have screamed out at the
builder (like the Queen in "Alice in Wonderland"), "Cut off his
head!"

When we were packing up the things to come here, our friends
expressed their astonishment at our taking so many of the little
elegancies of life, such as drawing-room ornaments, pictures, etc.
Now it is a great mistake not to bring such things, at all events a
few of them, for they are not to be bought here, and they give the
new home a certain likeness to the old one which is always
delightful. I do not advise people to make large purchases of