Читать книгу Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled during Her Visit among the "Pennsylvania Germans" - Edith May Bertels Thomas - Страница 62

Table of Contents

When John Landis came into possession of "Clear Spring" Farm, where his mother had lived during her lifetime, she having inherited it from her father, the rooms of the old farm house were filled with quaint, old-fashioned furniture of every description. "Aunt Sarah," on coming to the farm to live, had given a personal touch and cheery, homelike look to every room in the house, with one exception, the large, gloomy, old-fashioned parlor, which was cold, cheerless and damp. She confessed to Mary she always felt as if John's dead-and-gone ancestors' ghostly presences inhabited the silent room. The windows were seldom opened to allow a ray of sunlight to penetrate the dusk with which the room was always enveloped, except when the regular weekly sweeping day arrived; when, after being carefully swept and dusted, it was promptly closed. A room every one avoided, Aunt Sarah was very particular about always having fresh air and sunlight in every other part of the house but his one room. The old fireplace had been boarded up many years before Aunt Sarah's advent to the farm, so it could not be used. One day Mary noticed, while dusting the room (after it had been given a thorough sweeping by Sibylla, Aunt Sarah's one maid servant), that the small, many-paned windows facing the East, at one end of the parlor, when opened, let in a flood of sunshine; and in the evening those at the opposite end of the long room gave one a lovely view of the setting sun—a finer picture than any painted by the hand of a master. Mary easily persuaded her Aunt to make some changes in the unlivable room. She suggested that they consult her Uncle about repapering and painting the room and surprise him with the result when finished.

Aunt Sarah, who never did things by halves, said: "Mary, I have long intended 'doing over' this room, but thought it such a great undertaking. Now, with your assistance, I shall make a sweep of these old, antiquated heirlooms of a past generation. This green carpet, with its gorgeous bouquets of roses, we shall have combined with one of brown and tan in the attic. Your Uncle shall take them with him when he drives to town and have them woven into pretty, serviceable rugs for the floor."

"And, oh! Aunt Sarah," cried Mary, "do let's have an open fireplace. It makes a room so cheery and 'comfy' when the weather gets colder, on long winter evenings, to have a fire in the grate. I saw some lovely, old brass andirons and fender in the attic, and some brass candlesticks there also, which will do nicely for the mantel shelf over the fireplace. I'll shine 'em up, and instead of this hideously-ugly old wall paper with gay-colored scrawley figures, Aunt Sarah, suppose we get an inexpensive, plain, tan felt paper for drop ceiling and separate it from the paper on the side wall, which should be a warm, yellow-brown, with a narrow chestnut wood molding. Then this dull, dark, gray-blue painted woodwork; could any one imagine anything more hideously ugly? It gives me the 'blues' simply to look at it. Could we not have it painted to imitate chestnut wood? And don't you think we might paint the floor around the edges of the rug to imitate the woodwork? Just think of those centre panels of the door painted a contrasting shade of pale pink. The painter who did this work certainly was an artist. A friend of mine in the city, wishing to use rugs instead of carpets on her floors, and not caring to go to the expense of laying hardwood floors, gave the old floors a couple of coats of light lemon, or straw-colored paint, then stained and grained them a perfect imitation of chestnut, at small expense. The floors were greatly admired when finished, and having been allowed to dry thoroughly after being varnished, proved quite durable. I will write to my friend at once and ask her exactly how her floors were treated."

"Now, Mary, about this old-style furniture. The old grandfather clock standing in the corner, at the upper end of the room, I should like to have remain. It is one hundred and fifty years old and belonged to my folks, and, although old-fashioned, is highly valued by me."

"Of course," said Mary, "we'll certainly leave that in the room."

"Also," said Aunt Sarah, "allow the old cottage organ and large, old-fashioned bookcase belonging to your Uncle to remain. He has frequently spoken of moving his bookcase into the next room, when he was obliged to come in here for books, of which he has quite a valuable collection."