. Zigzag journeys in the White city. With visits to the neighboring metropolis . HE New England Kitchen was a double house incolonial style, such as was once to be seen on theroads running between Boston and the coast the promenade was the specimen buildingof the Co-operative Society of Philadelphia. Alittle way beyond it, the Irish village presented acurious contrast, and the Blarney Castle rose in the sunny air. In the kitchen of the typical old-time New England cottage thehomely food of the descendants of the Pilgrims was served, — brownbread and baked beans, pumpkin pies, doug
. Zigzag journeys in the White city. With visits to the neighboring metropolis . HE New England Kitchen was a double house incolonial style, such as was once to be seen on theroads running between Boston and the coast the promenade was the specimen buildingof the Co-operative Society of Philadelphia. Alittle way beyond it, the Irish village presented acurious contrast, and the Blarney Castle rose in the sunny air. In the kitchen of the typical old-time New England cottage thehomely food of the descendants of the Pilgrims was served, — brownbread and baked beans, pumpkin pies, doughnuts and cheese, home-made relishes. The waiters were dressed in colonial costumes,and sometimes wore calashes. The reception-room of the housewas furnished after the manner of the Plymouth Colony. FOLK-LORE TALES LN THE OLD COLONIAL KITCHEN. 135. NEW ENGLAND KITCHEN. The Marlowes were made welcome here, and used to take theirsuppers in the kitchen, after becoming foot-weary. When the supperwas over, they would linger among the New England people, whodaily gathered here, and relate colonial wonder-tales. One of these tales well fitted the unique room. It was told byMr. Marlowe, and we sfive it here : — THE OLD COACH DOG, OR, THE PHANTOM INN. The scene to which we introduce the reader on this Thanksgiving Eve wasin the old Winslow house at Green Harbor, now Marshfield, Mass. No housein America, we may safely say, ever had so many colonial legends of Thanks-giving Day as this. 186 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE WHITE CITY. Silas, said I, one night to an old stage-driver, tell us the story of thedog that said Silas ! The company eagerly demanded the tale. It was a strange room. In one corner were bushel baskets heaped withcorn. Uncle Silas shelled corn, as he said, for company, on other than holi-day or Sunday evenings. Over the corn ba
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectworldsc, bookyear1894
