The cow-house, on one side, was separated from the pigstyes by a
big stack of yellow logs, and the farther corner of the inn was flanked
by another stack of split wood, fronted by a pile of brushwood; above
was a wooden balcony that ran also along the house-front, and was
sheltered by the far-projecting eaves of the shingled roof.
Only the upper part of the inn was built of logs, the rest was brick and
plaster. The house looked neatly kept, the yard was less full of the
stray wood and litter that is so usual in a Swiss farmyard, but there
was a dull, severe air about the place. There was not a flower or a
plant, either in the balcony or on the broad wooden shelves below the
windows--not so much as a carnation or a marigold in the vegetable plot
behind the house.
A shed stood in the corner of this plot, and at the sound of Christina's
call a girl came out of the shed; she was young and tall and
strong-looking, but she did not beautify the scene.
To begin with, she stooped; her rough, tangled hair covered her forehead
and partly hid her eyes; her skin was red and tanned with exposure, and
her rather wide lips drooped at the corners with an expression of misery
that was almost grotesque. She carried a pail in each hand.
"Do be quick!" Christina spoke impatiently as she saw her niece appear
beyond the wood-stack.
Anna started at the harsh voice as if a lash had fallen on her back; the
pig's food splashed over her gown and filled her heavy leather shoes.
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