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THE OLD HOUSE
ROUND the corner in the next street stood an old, old house; it was almost three hundred years old, as any one might read on the beam, where the date was carved out, together with hyacinths and branches of hop vine; there were whole verses spelled as in olden days, and over the windows were carved faces making all sorts of grimaces. One story projected considerably over the other, and just under the roof was a leaden gutter with a dragon's head; the rain-water should have run out of its mouth, but it ran out of its stomach, for there was a hole in the gutter.
All the other houses in the street were quite new and fresh, with large window-panes and smooth walls. One could see they did not want to have anything to do with the old house. They were no doubt thinking: "How long is that ramshackle thing going to stand there as a disgrace to the street? And the bow-window projects so far into the street that no one can see from our windows what is going on in that direction; the door-steps are as broad as the staircase of a palace and as high as the stairs
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