The sitting-room door was open into the entry, so that
whatever breeze there was might come in, and an unusual
glimpse of the new foreroom rug was afforded the spectators.
Everything was as neat as wax, for Diadema was a housekeeper
of the type fast passing away. The great coal stove was enveloped
in its usual summer wrapper of purple calico, which, tied neatly
about its ebony neck and portly waist, gave it the appearance
of a buxom colored lady presiding over the assembly.
The kerosene lamps stood in a row on the high, narrow mantelpiece,
each chimney protected from the flies by a brown paper bag
inverted over its head. Two plaster Samuels praying under
the pink mosquito netting adorned the ends of the shelf.
There were screens at all the windows, and Diadema fidgeted
nervously when a visitor came in the mosquito netting door,
for fear a fly should sneak in with her.

On the wall were certificates of membership in the Missionary Society;
a picture of Maidens welcoming Washington in the Streets of Alexandria,
in a frame of cucumber seeds; and an interesting document setting forth
the claims of the Dunnell family as old settlers long before the separation
of Maine from Massachusetts,--the fact bein' established by an obituary
notice reading, "In Saco, December 1791, Dorcas, daughter of Abiathar Dunnell,
two months old of Fits unbaptized."

"He may be goin' to marry Eunice, and he may not," observed Almira Berry;
"though what she wants of Reuben Hobson is more 'n I can make out.
I never see a widower straighten up as he has this last year.
I guess he's been lookin' round pretty lively, but couldn't find anybody
that was fool enough to give him any encouragement."