Amanda looked up. On the top shelf of the cupboard was a silver lustre

pitcher, a teapot of rose lustre, a huge willow platter with its quaint

blue design, several pewter bowls, a plate with a crude peacock in

bright colors--an array of antiques that would have awakened

covetousness in the heart of a connoisseur.

A walnut pie-crust tilt top table stood in one corner of the room, a

mahogany gateleg occupied the centre, its beauty largely concealed by a

cover of yellow and white checked homespun linen, upon which rested a

glass oil lamp with a green paper shade, a wide glass dish filled with

pictures, an old leather-bound album with heavy brass clasps and

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hinges. A rag carpet, covered in places with hooked rugs, added a

proper note of harmony, while the old walnut chairs melted into the

whole like trees in a woodland scene. The whitewashed walls were bare

save for a large square mirror with a wide mahogany frame, a picture

holder made from a palm leaf fan and a piece of blue velvet briar

stitched in yellow, and a cross-stitch canvas sampler framed with a

narrow braid of horsehair from the tail of a dead favorite of long ago.

"What's pewter made of, Aunt Rebecca?" asked the child.

"Why, of tin and lead. And it's a pity they don't make it and use lots

of it like they used to long ago. For you can use pewter spoons in

vinegar and they don't turn black like some of these things that look

like silver but ain't. Pewter is good ware and I think sometimes that

the people that lived when it was used so much were way ahead of the

people to-day. Pewter's the same all through, no thin coatin' of

something shiny that can wear off and spoil the spoons or dishes. It's

old style now but it's good and pretty."

"Yes, that's so," agreed Amanda. It was surprising to the little girl

that the acidulous old aunt could, so unexpectedly, utter beautiful,

suggestive thoughts. Oh, Aunt Rebecca's house was a wonderful place.

She must see more of the treasures in the parlor.

Finally her activity annoyed Aunt Rebecca. "My goodness," came the

command, "you sit down once! Here, look at the album. Mebbe that will

keep you quiet for a while."

Amanda sat on a low footstool and took the old album on her knees. She

uttered many delighted squeals of surprise and merriment as she turned

the thick pages and looked at the pictures of several generations ago.

A little girl with ruffled pantalets showing below her full skirt and a

fat little boy with full trousers reaching half-way between his knees

and his shoetops sent Amanda into a gale of laughter. "Oh, I wish Phil

was here. What funny people!"