One
bed-room specially struck us, the paper and chintz furniture of which
were exactly of the same pattern of roses on a white ground, and the
effect was beautiful; but there were many others in equally good taste,
all with French papers. Hot and cold water were laid on in the rooms,
and hot air likewise, though not so as to be in the least oppressive.
Mrs. Bartlett's bed-room and dressing-room were the climax of all. The
woodwork throughout the house was varied in every story: there was black
oak, red pine, and white pine, all of very fine grain; the hall was
covered with encaustic tiles from Minton's; the offices were in keeping,
dairy, laundry, &c. Papa went over the farm and gardens, which were in
the same exquisite order; and there were greenhouses and hothouses,
which looked at a distance like a little Crystal Palace. Mrs. Bartlett
is a very amiable person, but a great invalid, and seldom leaves her
room.
This morning we proceeded on our way to this place; before getting into
the train at twelve o'clock, we drove over to Sunnyside; but, alas! Mr.
Irving was out, and we could only walk about his grounds, and peep in at
his study window. As this brought us to Tarrytown sooner than we counted
upon, I had time to climb up one of the hills, and much enjoyed the
view, although it was not so extensive as the one Papa saw yesterday.
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