DARSIE LATIMER'S JOURNAL, IN CONTINUATION Two or three days, perhaps more, perhaps less, had been spent in bed, where I was carefully attended, and treated, I believe, with as much judgement as the case required, and I was at length allowed to quit my bed, though not the chamber.

I was now more able to make some observation on the place of my confinement.
The room, in appearance and furniture, resembled the best apartment in a farmer's house; and the window, two stories high, looked into a backyard, or court, filled with domestic poultry.

There were the usual domestic offices about this yard.

I could distinguish the brewhouse and the barn, and I heard, from a more remote building, the lowing of the cattle, and other rural sounds, announcing a large and well-stocked farm.

These were sights and sounds qualified to dispel any apprehension of immediate violence.