A flight of five or six granite steps led up from the garden to the
balcony, and, although they were quite as old as the rest of the house,
they looked nearly as fresh and crude as when they were first put down.
The balcony itself was strongly built of wood, and faced by a broad and
stout railing, darkened by sun and rain, and worn smooth by much leaning
and sitting. Overhead spread an ample roof, which kept away the blaze
of the noonday sun, but did not deny the later and ruddier beams an
entrance. On either side the door-way, the windows of the dining-room
and of the professor's study opened down nearly to the floor. Every
thing in the house seemed to have some reference to the balcony, and,
in summer, it was certainly the most important part of all.
From the balcony to the front door extended, as has already been said,
a straight passage-way, into which the stairs descended, and on which
opened the doors of three rooms. It was covered with a deeply-worn strip
of oil-cloth, the pattern being quite undistinguishable in the middle,
and at the entrances of the doors and foot of the stairs, but appearing
with tolerable clearness for a distance of several inches out along the
walls. A high wainscoting ran along the sides; at the front door stood
an old-fashioned hat-tree, with no hats upon it; for the professor had
a way of wearing his hat into the house, and only taking it off when he
was seated at his study-table.
The gabled porch was wide and roomy, but had seen its best days, and was
rather out of repair. The board flooring creaked as you stepped upon it,
and the seams of the roof admitted small rills of water when it rained
hard, which, falling on the old brown mat, hastened its decay not a
little. A large, arched window opened on either side, so that one
standing in the porch could be seen from the upper and lower front
windows of the house. The outer woodwork and roof of the porch were
covered by a woodbine, trimmed, however, so as to leave the openings
clear. A few rickety steps, at the sides and between the cracks of
which sprouted tall blades of grass, led down to the path which
terminated in the gate. This path was distinguished by an incongruous
pavement of white limestone slabs, which were always kept carefully
clean. The gate was a rattle-boned affair, hanging feebly between two
grandfatherly old posts, which hypocritically tried to maintain an air
of solidity, though perfectly aware that they were wellnigh rotted away
at the base. The action of this gate was assisted--or more correctly
encumbered--by the contrivance of a sliding ball and chain, creating a
most dismal clatter and flap as often as it was opened. The white-washed
picket fence, scaled and patched by the weather, kept the posts in
excellent countenance; and inclosed a moderate grass-plot, adorned with
a couple of rather barren black cherry-trees, and as many firs, with
low-spread branches.