ole place. The arms and back of the couch-chair shone
like mahogany, the couch itself was plump and smooth, like a living
thing in good condition. The walls were a bright, lively blue, but
there was not very much to be seen of them, so covered were they with
all sorts of family-belongings and treasures. Against one wail stood a
rather ambitious-looking article, half chest of drawers, half sideboard,
the knobs of the drawers being of glass, which flashed in the bright
fire-light as if smiling their approbation of the happy condition of
their owners. Over the sideboard was a large and elaborate piece of
needlework, a perfect maze of doors and windows in green and red
worsted, with a gigantic bird on either side preparing to alight. This
was the work of the eldest daughter, and purported, in words at the
bottom, to be an accurate delineation of Solomon's Temple. Close by
stood a clock, tall and stately in its case, the hands of the brightest
brass, over which appeared the moving face of a good-tempered looking
moon. Then, on the next wall hung two large cases, one of butterflies,
which were arranged in patterns to represent griffins, dragons, and
other impossible animals; the other, of well-stuffed birds, with shining
legs and highly-coloured beaks. Other parts of the walls were adorned
with Scripture prints, more remarkable for brilliancy of colouring than
correctness of costume; and in a conspicuous place, evidently the pride
of the whole collection, was a full-length portrait of the Queen,
smiling benignantly down on her subjects. Below the cases of
butterflies and birds was a piano--yes, actually, a piano--and by no
means a bad one too. Then, near the fire-place, was a snug little book-
case, well furnished with books; and over the mantelpiece, in the centre
of a warm-looking paper, was the text, in large characters, "The love of
Christ constraineth us." The mantelpiece itself glittered with a
variety of brass utensils, all brightly polished. Over the middle of
the room, suspended by cords from the ceiling, was a framework of wood
crossed all over by strings, on which lay, ready for consumption, a good
store of crisp-looking oat-cakes; while, to give still further life to
the whole, a bird-cage hung near, in which there dwelt a small colony of
canaries.

Such was the room into which Johnson timidly entered. By the fire, in
his solid arm-chair, sat Ned Brierley, looking supremely content, as
well he might,