white overalls. They slathered. The word is not elegant, but there is no other which fitly describes their operations. What had been lath was lather. The whole house looked as if it was about to be shaved.
This was the most tantalizing stage of the proceedings. Plaster is a substance which has adopted as its motto “Never say dry!” and day after day went by, on each of which it seemed only to grow softer. Arbuthnot had said that what was wanted was hot, dry air; but the weather had changed, and we had rains as long as Queen Victoria’s, with never a chance for the air apparent.
Nevertheless, little by little the house was approaching completion. The window-frames were in, the hardwood floors were down, and there were doors to open and shut. The painter was at work, as well: a charming person, who whistled as he worked, quoted Whittier to me, and produced the most astounding effects, the most pleasing transformations, in
