“Perkins Brown, Shelldrake’s boy-of-all-work, awaited us at the door.  He had been sent on two or three days in advance, to take charge of the house, and seemed to have had enough of hermit-life, for he hailed us with a wild whoop, throwing his straw hat half-way up one of the poplars.  Perkins was a boy of fifteen, the child of poor parents, who were satisfied to get him off their hands, regardless as to what humanitarian theories might be tested upon him.  As the Arcadian Club recognized no such thing as caste, he was always admitted to our meetings, and understood just enough of our conversation to excite a silly ambition in his slow mind.  His animal nature was predominant, and this led him to be deceitful.  At that time, however, we all looked upon him as a proper young Arcadian, and hoped that he would develop into a second Abel Mallory.

“After our effects had been deposited on the stoop, and the carriages had driven away, we proceeded to apportion the rooms, and take possession.  On the first floor there were three rooms, two of which would serve us as dining-and drawing-rooms, leaving the third for the Shelldrakes.  As neither Eunice and Miss Ringtop, nor Hollins and Abel showed any disposition to room together, I quietly gave up to them the four rooms in the second story, and installed myself in one of the attic chambers.  Here I could hear the music of the rain close above my head, and through the little gable window, as I lay in bed, watch the colors of the morning gradually steal over the distant shores.  The end was, we were all satisfied.

“‘Now for our first meal in Arcadia!’ was the next cry.  Mrs. Shelldrake, like a prudent housekeeper, marched off to the kitchen, where Perkins had already kindled a fire.  We looked in at the door, but thought it best to allow her undisputed sway in such a narrow realm.  Eunice was unpacking some loaves of bread and paper bags of crackers; and Miss Ringtop, smiling through her ropy curls, as much as to say, ’You see, I also can perform the coarser tasks of life!’ occupied herself with plates and cups.  We men, therefore, walked out to the garden, which we found in a promising condition.  The usual vegetables had been planted and were growing finely, for the season was yet scarcely warm enough for the weeds to make much headway.  Radishes, young onions, and lettuce formed our contribution to the table.  The Shelldrakes, I should explain, had not yet advanced to the antediluvian point, in diet:  nor, indeed, had either Eunice or myself.  We acknowledged the fascination of tea, we saw a very mitigated evil in milk and butter, and we were conscious of stifled longings after the abomination of meat.  Only Mallory, Rollins, and Miss Ringtop had reached that loftiest round on the ladder of progress where the material nature loosens the last fetter of the spiritual.  They looked down upon us, and we meekly admitted their right to do so.