elf on
_roses_. From the largest cabbage down to the tiniest Burgundy, he has
arranged them in every possible variety of wreath, garland, bouquet,
and single flower. They are of all stages of growth, from earliest
budhood up to the ravishing beauty of the "last rose of summer." Nor
has he confined himself to the colors usually worn by this lovely
plant, but, with the daring of a great genius soaring above nature,
worshiping the ideal rather than the real, he has painted them brown,
purple, green, black, and blue. It would need a floral catalogue to
give you the names of _all_ the varieties which bloom upon the calico,
but, judging by the shapes, which really are much like the originals, I
can swear to moss-roses, Burgundies, York and Lancaster, tea-roses, and
multifloras.

A curtain of the above-described chintz (I shall hem it at the first
opportunity) divides off a portion of the room, behind which stands a
bedstead that in ponderosity leaves the Empire couches far behind. But
before I attempt the furniture let me finish describing the cabin
itself.

The fireplace is built of stones and mud, the chimney finished off with
alternate layers of rough sticks and this same rude mortar. Contrary to
the usual custom, it is built inside, as it was thought that
arrangement would make the room more comfortable, and you may imagine
the queer appearance of this unfinished pile of stones, mud, and
sticks. The mantelpiece (remember that on this portion of a great
building some artists, by their exquisite workmanship, have become
world-renowned) is formed of a beam of wood covered with strips of tin
procured from cans, upon which still remain, in black hieroglyphics,
the names of the different eatables which they formerly contained. Two
smooth stones (how delightfully primitive!) do duty as fire-dogs. I
suppose that it would be no more than civil to call a hole two feet
square, in one side of the room, a window, although it is as yet
guiltless of glass. F. tried to coax the proprietor of the Empire to
let him have a window from that pine-and-canvas palace, but he, of
course, declined, as to part with it would really inconvenience
himself. So F. has sent to Marysville for some glass, though it is the
general opinion that the snow will render the trail impassible for
mules before we can get it. In this case we shall tack up a piece of
cotton cloth, and should it chance at any time to be very cold, hang a
blanket before the opening.