As I approached the house, a legion of whelps sallied out barking at
me, accompanied by the low howling, rather than barking, of two old
worn-out bloodhounds, which I recognized for the ancient life-guards of
my uncle. The house had still a neglected, random appearance, though
much altered for the better since my last visit. Several of the windows
were broken and patched up with boards; and others had been bricked up
to save taxes. I observed smoke, however, rising from the chimneys; a
phenomenon rarely witnessed in the ancient establishment. On passing
that part of the house where the dining-room was situated, I heard the
sound of boisterous merriment; where three or four voices were talking
at once, and oaths and laughter were horribly mingled.
The uproar of the dogs had brought a servant to the door, a tall,
hard-fisted country clown, with a livery coat put over the under-garments
of a ploughman. I requested to see the master of the house, but was
told he was at dinner with some "gemmen" of the neighborhood. I made
known my business and sent in to know if I might talk with the master
about his cattle; for I felt a great desire to have a peep at him at
his orgies. Word was returned that he was engaged with company, and
could not attend to business, but that if I would "step in and take a
drink of something, I was heartily welcome." I accordingly entered the
hall, where whips and hats of all kinds and shapes were lying on an
oaken table, two or three clownish servants were lounging about;
everything had a look of confusion and carelessness.
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