Coarse, but the best she had; then takes the load Of ashes from the hearth, and spreads abroad The living coals, and, lest they should expire, With leaves and barks she feeds her infant-fire; It smokes, and then with trembling breath she blows, Till in a cheerful blaze the flames arose. With brushwood and with chips she strengthens these, And adds at last the boughs of rotten trees. The fire thus formed, she sets the kettle on, Like burnished gold the little seether shone; Next took the coleworts which her husband got From his own ground, a small well-watered spot; She stripped the stalks of all their leaves; the best She culled, and then with handy care she dressed. High o'er the hearth a chine of bacon hung; Good old Philemon seized it with a prong, And from the sooty rafter drew it down, Then cut a slice, but scarce enough for one; Yet a large portion of a little store, Which, for their sake alone, he wished were more. This in the pot he plunged without delay, To tame the flesh, and drain the salt away. The time between, before the fire they sat, And shortened the delay by pleasing chat. A beam there was, on which a beechen pail Hung by the handle, on a driven nail; This filled with water, gently warmed, they set } Before their guests; in this they bathed their feet, } And after with clean towels dried their sweat: } This done, the host produced the genial bed, } Sallow the foot, the borders, and the sted, } Which with no costly coverlet they spread, } But coarse old garments; yet such robes as these They laid alone, at feasts, on holidays. The good old housewife, tucking up her gown, The table sets; the invited gods lie down. The trivet-table of a foot was lame, A blot which prudent Baucis overcame, Who thrust beneath the limping leg a sherd, So was the mended board exactly reared; Then rubbed it o'er with newly gathered mint, A wholesome herb, that breathed a grateful scent. Pallas[26] began the feast, where first was seen The party-coloured olive, black and green; Autumnal cornels next in order served, In lees of wine well pickled and preserved; A garden-sallad was the third supply, Of endive, radishes, and succory; Then curds and cream, the flower of country fare, } And new-laid eggs, which Baucis' busy care } Turned by a gentle fire, and roasted rare. } All these in earthen-ware were served to board; } And, next in place, an earthen pitcher, stored } With liquor of the best the cottage could afford. } This was the table's ornament and pride, With figures wrought; like pages at his side Stood beechen bowls; and these were shining clean, Varnished with wax without, and lined within.