Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1936-11-05

The Ne,o Place is little brick ell to
the Old Place, quite modern and ex
treneIy Convenient, to tUhich | retire for
the winter. built it in the first year OF
my marriage. The Ne,u Place bears no
part in this story for it is always closed
during the summer; but many scenes Of
played themselves out in the Old Place
Inside, it tolloiUs on largish scale the
plan OF many colonial houses-broad hall
running from tan-lighted doorway past the
fine broad stairway ending halfway doUn
the width of the house. On one side Of
the hall is the library, on the other, a
small iuingroom. Back OF the hall and
back OF both these rooms, lies What iUa.
formerly the ample kitchen and is nou
my big iving-room, stretching across the
,ohole ,oidth of the house. Back of this
and now tue are in the elI-are dining
room and kitchen. Upstairs is colonial
tangle OF big rooms and small. Broad
screened.in piaszas augment both ends OF
the house.
Outside, the place is little haphazard
and complicated. But it is, think, ut
terIy charming. In front are pair OF
gardens, one ON each side of stepping
stones ,chich lead to the front door, all
surrounded by Unite picket fence. Be
You'd that is smooth, pelvety laUn run
ming do,Un to the stone ,Uall which pro
tects me from the road. To my right the
driveway comes up past my side door,
turns in great loop, rejoins itself, so
to speak, and foUs back to the road. To
my left is a small ,oood tUhich call the
Spinney. My estate numbers a generous
dozen acres and the Spinney takes up
perhaps a halt dozen of them.
A grassy path runs from my letthand
piazza to the edge of the Spinney. There
it becomes broad gravel path, and pur,
suing course irregularly OPAL, runs
through the Spinney, curves uptoard and
around and ends at my back door. In
the Spinney, farther totUard the ocean
not in sight from my house-is tiny
,Uooden log-cabin (Which tUe haze always
called the Little House. Years ago t,Uo
of my nepheWs built the Little House
They sleep there by preference whenever
they come to visit me. and entirely
through sentiment haze always kept it
in repair. The Spinney path runs past
the Little House. Do,Un near the stone
Wall, ,Oitlin sight of my house, there is
tLny pOnG. III Is circular ana no larger
than small room. Until came here
everybody called it by its hereditary
name-the coU ,Uell. But iOhen my nieces
and nephews began to groO up about me,
we decided that it should haze a more
agreeable name. Some of them had vis.
tied in Connecticut in house situated
on the Mad river. We adored the name.
after long debate it ,Uas decided to call
the pond the Merry Mere. The Merry
Mere is fed from spring in the hillside;
it is perhaps three feet deep in the cen.
ter. Near it is big, gray lichened rock
,ohich, from time in,nlemorial in the fam.
lily, has been called Mud.Pie Rock.
Here ive all the year around; alone
except for my maids Bessie Williams and
Sarah Darbe, colored Won,en who haze
been with me for years. 1T the time of
the murder, my eight-year-old niece, SyI-
uia Sard, ,oas visiting me. She spent most
OF her days playing on the shore of the
Merry Mere ,vith her little friend Nancy
Burton. Both Sylvia and l ,cent to the
masquerade; and both my maids toere
helping that night in the Stow kitchen.