Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/202

 Linda continued walking about the room. There was the chair in which Enoch had loved to drowse before the fire. He had sat in it so much, she almost imagined that she could see him there now. And she wondered if the old chair ever missed him. It is the most ancient furniture that gives the home-feeling to a little house. A room must be lived in, must be used to be cozy. That is why old country houses wherein families have lived for generations are so delightful. They've been lived in so long the very beams and rafters breathe forth comfort.

Above the huge open-fireplace was a rough-hewn board mantel-shelf on which a few knick-knacks lay. A vase that her mother had given her on her wedding day, the vase in which she kept the fragrant herbs that brought such good luck when they were cast into the fire. An old jack-knife with a broken bone-handle which Enoch had used constantly in his whittling. Beside it was a tiny rustic country scene which Enoch had carved entirely out of wood.