with pewter plates, dishes and drinking
vessels, which are taken down from their sanctuary on great occasions
only.

More or less everywhere, at any spot which the light touches, are
crudely colored pictures, pasted on the walls. Here is Our Lady of the
Seven Dolours, the disconsolate Mother of God opening her blue cloak
to show her heart pierced with seven daggers. Between the sun and moon,
which stare at you with their great, round eyes, is the Eternal Father,
whose robe swells as though puffed out with the storm. To the right
of the window, in the embrasure, is the Wandering Jew. He wears a
three-cornered hat, a large, white leather apron, hobnailed shoes and a
stout stick. 'Never was such a bearded man seen before or after,' says
the legend that surrounds the picture. The draftsman has not forgotten
this detail: the old man's beard spreads in a snowy avalanche over the
apron and comes down to his knees. On the left is Genevieve of Brabant,
accompanied by the roe, with fierce Golo hiding in the bushes, sword in
hand. Above hangs The Death of Mr. Credit, slain by defaulters at the
door of his inn; and so on and so on, in every variety of subject, at
all the unoccupied spots of the four walls.

I was filled with admiration of this picture gallery, which held one's
eyes with its great patches of red, blue, green and yellow. The master,
however, had not set up his collection with a view to training our minds
and hearts. That was the last and least of the worthy man's ambitions.
An artist in his fashion, he had adorned his house according to his
taste; and we benefited by the scheme of decoration.

While the gallery of halfpenny pictures made me happy all the year
round, there was another entertainment which I found particularly
attractive in winter, in frosty weather, when the snow lay long on the
ground. Against the far wall stands the fireplace, as monumental in size
as at my grandmother's. Its arched cornice occupies the whole width of
the room, for the enormous redoubt fulfils more than one purpose. In the
middle is the hearth, but, on the right and left, are two breast-high
recesses, half wood and half stone. Each of them is a bed, with a
mattress stuffed with chaff of winnowed corn. Two sliding planks serve
as shutters and close the chest if the sleeper would be alone. This
dormitory, sheltered under the chimney mantel, supplies couches for the
favored ones of the house, the two boarders. They must lie snug in th