the associations attached to it. And the life-size painting of
General Washington's mother,--said to be the only one of the kind in
existence,--which looked down from its broad frame over the dining-room
mantel, possessed a special fascination for me. One felt rather
insignificant with that scornful smile and those languid eyes brooding
over one as one sat engaged in the discussion of soup; and it was
impossible to keep from imagining that the stiff and stately dame in her
mathematically correct white and green draperies was drawing invidious
comparisons between the way one did one's hair and the way in which she
had considered it proper to arrange her abundant pale-brown locks.

About the place itself were more changes than at first would strike the
eye. The old Livingston homestead had been razed to the ground, and
smooth, emerald grass thrived upon its site, while the chief gardener,
Thomas, had been promoted to a new aesthetic cottage of the latest
approved colors and style. Even the famous well was no more; for a small
and inconspicuous pump had been put in its stead, to save unwary
children from instituting a too curious search for the "truth" popularly
supposed to lie within its depths. The graperies were gone, and in their
stead nourished rose-houses,--visiting the interior of which seemed
fairly to transport one into the famous "Vale of Cashmere." Roses of all
colors and all descriptions here found an ideal home, and with their
beauty served the purses of their two young masters, who superintended
their culture. It was in the early summer that I saw the place again
after my long absence, and the rose-houses of course could not be seen
at their best, as they can in winter. There are four large houses,
opening into a long, narrow frame building, at one end of which is the
office where the young gentlemen managers transact their business. Here
all was--and still is, no doubt--immaculately neat, the walls adorned
with colored prints and paintings of flowers, an array of books, papers,
and ledgers carefully arranged in their exact places on the desk, and
everything kept free from dust, swept and garnished. In the long, bare
room from which the office opens are stored gardening-tools,
watering-cans of all shapes and descriptions (some of which to an
untutored eye present a striking resemblance to coffee-pots such as the
Brobdingnag giants might have used), baskets for packing the roses, with
all their paraphernalia,