In the tiny back kitchen I was often invited to "take out
and help" myself to fried chicken and wheat biscuit, "meat"
and corn pone, string-beans and berries. At first I used to be a
little alarmed at the approach of bedtime in the one lone
bedroom, but embarrassment was very deftly avoided. First,
all the children nodded and slept, and were stowed away in
one great pile of goose feathers; next, the mother and the
father discreetly slipped away to the kitchen while I went to
bed; then, blowing out the dim light, they retired in the dark.
In the morning all were up and away before I thought of
awaking. Across the road, where fat Reuben lived, they all
went outdoors while the teacher retired, because they did not
boast the luxury of a kitchen.
I liked to stay with the Dowells, for they had four rooms
and plenty of good country fare. Uncle Bird had a small,
rough farm, all woods and hills, miles from the big road; but
he was full of tales,--he preached now and then,--and with
his children, berries, horses, and wheat he was happy and
prosperous. Often, to keep the peace, I must go where life
was less lovely; for instance, 'Tildy's mother was incorrigibly
dirty, Reuben's larder was limited seriously, and herds of
untamed insects wandered over the Eddingses' beds.
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