"
But when she found there were no more flies buzzing in Farmer Jones'
kitchen than in her own, and that Melinda worked as much as ever, and
was just as willing to lend a helping hand when there was need of haste
at the Markham house, her anxiety subsided, and the Joneses were welcome
to eat wherever they chose, or even to have to wait upon the table, when
there was company, the little black boy Pete, whom Tim had bought at a
slave auction in New Orleans, whither he had gone on a flatboat
expedition two or three years before. But she never thought of
introducing any of Melinda's notions into her own household. She "could
not fuss" to keep so many rooms clean. If in winter time she kept a fire
in the front room, where in one corner her own bed was curtained off,
and if in summer she always sat there when her work was done, it was all
that could be required of her, and was just as they used to do at her
father's, in Vermont, thirty years ago. Her kitchen was larger than Mrs.
Jones', which was rather uncomfortable on a hot day when there was
washing to be done; the odor of the soap-suds was a little sickening
then, she admitted, but in her kitchen it was different; she had had an
eye to comfort when they were building, and had seen that the kitchen
was the largest, airiest, lightest room in the house, with four windows,
two outside doors, and a fireplace, where, although they had a stove,
she dearly loved to cook just as her mother had done in Vermont, and
where hung an old-fashioned crane, with iron hooks suspended from it.
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