As for silver, we knew the worst when Aunt Delia McCormick declared, "They haven't even a swinging ice-pitcher--nothing but thin battered old stuff that was made in the year one!" Aunt Delia had quite the newest and most fashionable furniture in town; her parlor was a feast of color for any eye, and her fine hardwood sideboard alone had cost twenty-two dollars, so she spoke as one having authority.
By the time that Clem's ancient treasures were all unpacked, Little Arcady felt a genuine if patronizing sympathy for his mistress.

If _that_ were the boasted elegance of the ante-bellum South, then Tradition had reported falsely.

No plush rockers of the newest patent; no chenille curtains; no art chromos; no hat-racks, not even an imitation bronze mantle clock guarded by its mailed warrior.

Such clocks as there were left only honest distress in the mind of the beholder,--tall, outlandish old things in wooden cases.
It was believed that Clem had wasted money in paying freight on this stuff.

Certainly no one in Little Arcady would have paid those bills to possess the furniture.