The house at which Tom applied for food evidently did not belong to one of the “first families,” or, if it did, the owner’s fortunes had become sadly dilapidated. It was built of rough boards, with a huge stone chimney, which was erected on the outside of the structure. The humblest fisherman in Pinchbrook Harbor would have thought himself poorly accommodated in such a rough and rickety mansion.  
If Tom’s case had not been growing desperate, he would not have run the risk of showing himself to any person on the “sacred soil” who was “to the manor born;” but his stomach was becoming more and more imperative in its demands, and he knocked at the front door with many misgivings, especially as his exchequer contained less than a dollar of clear cash.
 
The inmates were either very deaf or very much indisposed to see visitors; and Tom, after he had knocked three times, began to think he had not run any great risk in coming to this house. As nobody replied to his summons, he took the liberty to open the door and enter. The establishment was even more primitive in its interior than its exterior, and the soldier boy could not help contrasting it with the neat houses of the poor in his native town.
 
The front door opened into a large room without the formality of an entry or hall. In one corner of the apartment stood a bed. At one side was a large fireplace, in which half a dozen sticks of green wood were hissing and sizzling in a vain attempt to make the contents of an iron pot, which hung over them, reach the boiling point. No person was to be seen or heard on the premises, though the fire and the pot were suggestive of humanity at no great distance from the spot.
 
A door on the back side of the room was open, and Tom looked out in search of the occupants of the house. In the garden he discovered the whole family, consisting of a man and his wife, a girl of twelve, and a boy of ten. The man was digging in the garden, and the rest of the troupe seemed to be superintending the operation. The head of the family was altogether the most interesting person to Tom, for he must either shake hands or fight with him. He did not look like a giant in intellect, and he certainly was not a giant in stature. With the bayonet still in his belt, Tom was not afraid of him.
 
“How are you, people?” said Tom, as he walked towards the family, who with one accord suspended all operations, and gave their whole attention to the stranger.
 
“How are ye, yourself?” replied the man, rather gruffly.
 
“Do you keep a hotel?” demanded Tom, who concealed the anxiety of his heart under a broad grin.
 
“I reckon I don’t. What do you want here?”
 
“I want something to eat,” replied Tom, proceeding to business with commendable straight-forwardness.
 
“We hain’t got nothin’ here,” said the man, sourly. “That ain’t what ye come fur, nuther.”
 
“Must have something to eat. I’m not very particular, but I must have something.”
 
“You can’t hev it ’bout yere, no how. That ain’t what ye come fur, nuther.”
 
“If you know what I came for better than I do, suppose you tell me what it is,” added Tom, who was a little mystified by the manner of the man.
 
“You air one of them soger fellers, and you want me to ’list; but I tell yer, ye can’t do nothin’ of the sort. I’ll be dog derned if I’ll go.”
 
“I don’t want you to go,” protested Tom. “I’m half starved and all I want is something to eat.”
 
“Yer don’t reelly mean so.”
 
“Yes, I do.”
 
“Where d’yer come from?”
 
“From down below here. Have you seen any soldiers pass through this place?”
 
“I reckon I hev; but they hain’t seen me; and I reckon they won’t see me very soon;” and the man chuckled at his own cleverness in keeping clear of recruiting officers.
 
“I don’t want you, and if you will give me something to eat, you will get rid of me very quick.”
 
“Betsey, you kin feed the feller, if yer like, and I’ll go over and see whar the hogs is.”
 
The man dropped his shovel, and began to move off towards the woods, probably to see whether Tom would attempt to detain him. At the same time “Betsey” led the way into the house, and the visitor paid no further attention to the master.
 
“We hain’t got much to eat in the house,” said the woman, as they entered the room. “There’s some biled pork and pertaters in the pot, and we’ve got some bread, sech as ’tis.”
 
“It will do me very well. I’m hungry, and can eat any thing,” replied Tom.
 
The woman placed a tin plate on the table, and dished up the contents of the kettle on the fire. She added some cold hoe cake to the dinner, and Tom thought it was a feast fit for a king. He took a seat at the table, and made himself entirely at home. The food was coarse, but it was good, and the hungry soldier boy did ample justice to the viands. The boy and girl who had followed him into the house, stood, one on each side of him, watching him in speechless astonishment.
 
“Where did yer come from?” asked the woman, when Tom had about half finished his dinner.
 
“From down below,” replied Tom, rather indefinitely.
 
“Don’t b’long in these yere parts, I reckon?”
 
“No, marm.”
 
“Where are ye gwine?”
 
“Going to join my regiment.”
 
“Where is yer rigiment?”
 
“That’s more than I know, marm.”
 
“How long yer been travelling?” persisted the woman, who was perhaps afraid that the guest would eat up the whole of the family’s dinner, if she did not make some kind of a feint to attract his a............