It was after supper that the momentous consultation about the machines began. Full justice had been done to that evening meal. There had been cold beef and a chine, oatcakes that had been dried on the creel over the big fireplace before which a bullock might have been roasted whole, cheese and apple pie, and, to drink, a quart or more of my mother's famous home brewed. Mr. Webster, by grace of his office, was privileged to drink his ale out of the large two-handled silver flagon, a hundred years old at the least, that no common lips had ever touched. I do not think the supper was the worse for that we took it in the house instead of the parlour. There was the sanded floor to our feet and the smoked rafters above, and in the sill of the long diamond paned windows were red earth pots of geranium and musk and fuschia, that made the room smell sweet as a nosegay. The spinning wheels were away in the corner, a list hearthrug made by my mother's own hands stretched before the grate, a cushion whose covering worked by the same tireless fingers imaged the meeting of Jacob and Rebecca at the well, adorned the long oak settle under the window. The walls, washed yellow, were relieved by the framed funeral cards of departed relatives; the calf bound family Bible containing entries of births, marriages and deaths for many generations back, my own birth being at that time last entry of all, tho' there have been added a goodly list since then, reposed on the chest; a celery glass, highly cut, on the one side and a decanter on the other. A beautiful enamelled tray, with hand-painted roses, was reared behind, and best pictures of all, my father always vowed, and richest ornaments of any room, a prime flitch of bacon and two sturdy hams hung on the hooks near the door, so as to catch the air to keep them sweet. I have been in many a fine room since then, notably when I went to Woodsome Hall to see my Lord Dartmouth and give the tenants' greeting to his bonnie bride; but for real home feeling and snug comfort never have I seen ought to compare with the old house at Holme when it was tidied up for Sunday.