Seeing that he was
not going to get anything more for his money, our friend at length turned
his horse and found his way to the stables by the unerring drag of
carriage-wheels. All things there being as matters were in the house, he
put the redoubtable nag into a stall, and helped him to a liberal measure
of oats out of the well-stored unlocked corn-bin. He then sought the back
of the house by the worn flagged-way that connected it with the stables.
The back yard was in the admired confusion that might be expected from the
woman's account. Empty casks and hampers were piled and stowed away in all
directions, while regiments of champagne and other bottles stood and lay
about among blacking bottles, Seltzer-water bottles, boot-trees,
bath-bricks, old brushes, and stumpt-up besoms. Several pair of dirty
top-boots, most of them with the spurs on, were chucked into the shoe-house
just as they had been taken off. The kitchen, into which our friend now
entered, was in the same disorderly state. Numerous copper pans stood
simmering on the charcoal stoves, and the jointless jack still revolved on
the spit.
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