tant
had eaten nothing but dry bread since breakfast. The girl interrupted us
to say that the stove was ready, but that she couldn't get either coal
or wood, and would I just come and see why? I descended five of the
cellar stairs, but the others were covered with water, and upon the
watery expanse about me floated the wagon-load of wood I had purchased.
The coal heap, under a window fifteen feet away, loomed up like a rugged
crag of basaltic rock. I took soundings with a stick and found the
water was rather more than two feet deep. Fortunately, there were among
my war relics a pair of boots as long as the legs of their owner, so I
drew these on and descended the stairs with shovel and coal scuttle. The
boots had not been oiled in ten years, so they found accommodation for
several quarts of water. As I strode angrily into the kitchen and set
the scuttle down with a suddenness which shook the floor, Sophronia
clapped her hands in ecstasy.

"Pierre," she exclaimed, "you look like the picture of the sturdy
retainers of the old English barons. O, I do hope that water won't go
away very soon. The rattling of the water in your boots makes your step
_so_ impressive."

I found that in spite of the hunger from which she had suffered,
Sophronia had not been idle during the day. She had coaxed the baker's
man to open the cases of pictures, and she and the domestic had carried
each picture to the room in which it was to hang. The highest ceiling in
the house was six and a half feet from the floor, whereas our smallest
picture measured three feet and a half in height. But Sophronia's
art-loving soul was not to be daunted; the pictures being too large to
hang, she had leaned them against the walls.

"It's such an original idea," said she; "and then, too, it gives each
picture such an unusual effect--don't you think so?"

I certainly did.

We spent the evening in trying to make our rooms look less like
furniture warehouses, but succeeded only partly. We agreed, too, that we
could find something for painters and kalsominers to do, for the
ceilings and walls were blotched and streaked so much that our pretty
furniture and carpets only made the plastering look more dingy. But when
again we retired, and our lights were put, and only soft moonbeams
relieved the darkness, our satisfaction with our new house filled us
with pleasant dreams, which we exchanged before sleeping. After falling
asleep, I dreamed of hearing a wonderful sympho