If Coleridge's statement is true that poetry is the best words in the best order, then that is the best poem: the inside of a caravan! The caravan was sixteen feet six inches long and six feet two inches high inside.

From the ground it stood ten feet.

It was six feet four inches wide.

If you measure these distances in the dining room, you will see how big it was, and you will be able to imagine yourselves in it.
The woodwork was all highly varnished, and very new and clean.

More than halfway down the caravan were heavy curtains hanging across it, and behind these was the bedroom, containing four beds, two on each wall, on hinged shelves, that could be let down flat against the wall-by day, when the folding chairs could be unfolded, and the bedroom then became a little boudoir.
The floor space was, however, filled this afternoon with great bundles which turned out to be gypsy tents and sleeping sacks.