A kettle was singing on the hob.

The white deal-table was set for tea--with a fat brown teapot, and cups of a gorgeous pattern in bronze, that shone in the firelight like red gold.

In one of the walls was a box-bed.
"I'll lat ye see what accommodation we hae at yer service, sir," said Doory, "an' gien that'll shuit ye, ye s' be welcome." So saying, she opened what looked like the door of a cupboard at the side of the fireplace.

It disclosed a neat little parlour, with a sweet air in it.

The floor was sanded, and so much the cleaner than if it had been carpeted.