kened brass knocker a ceremonious rap or two, and I could
have told by the sound of it, if in no other way, that there was nobody
at home. I looked up to see a robin's nest on the cornice overhead, and
I had to push away the lilacs and a withered hop vine which were both
trying to cover up the door.

It gives one a strange feeling, I think, to go into an empty house so
old as this. It was so still there that the noise my footsteps made
startled me, and the floor creaked and cracked as if some one followed
me about. There was hardly a straw left or a bit of string or paper, but
the rooms were much worn, the bricks in the fire-places were burnt out,
rough and crumbling, and the doors were all worn smooth and round at the
edges. The best rooms were wainscoted, but up-stairs there was a long,
unfinished room with a little square window at each end, under the
sloping roof, and as I listened there to the rain I remembered that I
had once heard an old man say wistfully, that he had slept in just such
a "linter" chamber as this when he was a boy, and that he never could
sleep anywhere now so well as he used there while the rain fell on the
roof just over his bed.

Down-stairs I found a room which I knew must have been the study. It was
handsomely wainscoted, and the finish of it was even better than that of
the parlor. It must have been a most comfortable place, and I fear the
old parson was luxurious in his tastes and less ascetic, perhaps, than
the more puritanical members of his congregation approved. There was a
great fire-place with a broad hearth-stone, where I think he may have
made a mug of flip sometimes, and there were several curious, narrow,
little cupboards built into the wall at either side, and over the
fire-place itself two doors opened and there were shelves inside,
broader at the top as the chimney sloped back. I saw some writing on one
of these doors and went nearer to read it. There was a date at the top,
some time in 1802, and his reverence had had a good quill pen and ink
which bravely stood the test of time; he must have been a tall man to
have written so high. I thought it might be some record of a great storm
or other notable event in his house or parish, but I was amused to find
that he had written there on the unpainted wood some valuable recipes
for the medical treatment of horses. "It is Useful for a Sprain--and For
a Cough, Take of Elecampane"--and so on. I hope he was not a hunting
parson, but on