The Rawlings household.
alone by some country fellows who advised me to
seek convoy at a small house on the other side of
the road. Here I found an old dame, wife to Raw-
lings� gardener, who piloted me to my destination,
along a winding path amid the trees, two large
dogs snuffing suspiciously in my immediate vicinity.
At the house, a spacious, wooden-built, country one,
Rawlings appeared in answer to my application
at the door and demonstratively bade me welcome.
He immediately ushered me into the sitting-room
and there introduced me to the company assembled.
These were his father and mother, his wife, his
brother (a lad of twelve or fourteen) and Quigg. Af-
ter lavation in an adjacent room, I sat down to a
meal extemporized for me and was presently inducted into an
arm-chair beside the fire, in which logs were burn-
ing on the old-fashioned iron dogs, and then had
leisure to observe my company. And here they are.
Rawlings senior appeared the worthy father of
his son, being an elderly Englishman, about the
age of sixty, with side whiskers, a bald head and
smooth-shaven chin. In features when younger he must have re-
sembled his son. But in lieu of
the loud, brassy, irrepressibleness of �Gus� (as all
the family called him) the old man�s manner
was eminently British, being quiet, inordinately
self-satisfied and respectable. His wife, perhaps
ten years his junior, had a vulgar face, indica-