mes larger than any other
house in the place. A piazza it enjoyed, of course; it must be a pitiful
village inn that does not: and building, accessaries and all, rejoiced
in several coats of a spurious white lead. The columns of this piazza,
as well as the clap-boards of the house itself however, exhibited the
proofs of the danger of abandoning your true whittler to his own
instincts. Spread-eagles, five points, American flags, huzzahs for Polk!
the initials of names, and names at full length, with various other
similar conceits, records, and ebullitions of patriotic or party-otic
feelings, were scattered up and down with an affluence the said volumes
in favour of the mint in which they had been coined. But the most
remarkable memorial of the industry of the guests was to be found on one
of the columns; and it was one at a corner, too, and consequently of
double importance to the superstructure--unless, indeed, the house were
built on that well-known principle of American architecture of the last
century, which made the architrave uphold the pillar, instead of the
pillar the architrave. The column in question was of white pine, as
usual--though latterly, in brick edifices, bricks and stucco are much
resorted to--and, at a convenient height for the whittlers, it was
literally cut two-thirds in two. The gash was very neatly made--that
much must be said for it--indicating skill and attention; and the
surfaces of the wound were smoothed in a manner to prove that
appearances were not neglected.

"Vat do das?" I asked of the landlord, pointing to this gaping wound in
the main column of his piazza.

"That! Oh! That's only the whittlers," answered the host, with a
good-natural smile.

Assuredly the Americans _are_ the best-natured people on earth! Here was
a man whose house was nearly tumbling down about his ears--always bating
the principle in architecture just named--and he could smile as Nero may
be supposed to have done when fiddling over the conflagration of Rome.

"But vhy might de vhittler vhittle down your house?"

"Oh! this is a free country, you know, and folks do pretty much as they
like in it," returned the still smiling host. "I let 'em cut away as
long as I dared, but it was high time to get out 'whittling-pieces' I
believe you must own. It's best always to keep a ruff (roof) over a
man's head, to be ready for bad weather. A week longer would have had
the column in two."

"Vell, I dinks I might not bear dat!