he last
was a mechanic, as I ascertained, and was a plain-looking working-man of
middle age. Each of these persons seated himself on a common "kitchen
chair," leaning back against the side of the house, and, of course,
resting on the two hind legs of the rickety support, while he placed his
own feet on the rounds in front. The attitudes were neither graceful nor
picturesque, but they were so entirely common as to excite no surprise.
As for Hall, he appeared perfectly contented with his situation, after
fidgeting a little to get the two supporting legs of his chair just
where he wanted them; but Hubbard's eye was restless, uneasy, and even
menacing, for more than a minute. He drew a knife from his pocket--a
small, neat pen-knife only, it is true--gazed a little wildly about him,
and just as I thought he intended to abandon his nicely poised chair,
and to make an assault on one of the pillars that upheld the roof of the
piazza, the innkeeper advanced, holding in his hand several narrow slips
of pine board, one of which he offered at once to 'Squire Hubbard. This
relieved the attorney, who took the wood, and was soon deeply plunged
in, to me, the unknown delights of whittling. I cannot explain the
mysterious pleasure that so many find in whittling, though the
prevalence of the custom is so well known. But I cannot explain the
pleasure so many find in chewing tobacco, or in smoking. The precaution
of the landlord was far from being unnecessary, and appeared to be taken
in good part by all to whom he offered "whittling-pieces," some six or
eight in the whole. The state of the piazza, indeed, proved that the
precaution was absolutely indispensable, if he did not wish to see the
house come tumbling down about his head. In order that those who have
never seen such thing may understand their use, I will go a little out
of the way to explain.

The inn was of wood, a hemlock frame with a "siding" of clap-boards. In
this there was nothing remarkable, many countries of Europe, even, still
building principally of wood. Houses of lath and plaster were quite
common, until within a few years, even in large towns. I remember to
have seen some of these constructions, while in London, in close
connection with the justly celebrated Westminster Hall; and of such
materials is the much-talked-of miniature castle of Horace Walpole, at
Strawberry Hill. But the inn of Mooseridge had some pretensions to
architecture, besides being three or four ti