Squire Stove

 The high sixteen foot tongue and groove ceilings took a lot of heating. In the cold autumn's my father kept the Squire stove burning in the front room, usually overheating the room until we would have to open the dogtrot hall door and let the cold and hot air mix.  It was our natural thermostat. In earlier years before the Squire was installed, it was a constant run to the cold front porch to retrieve wood for the fireplace. The room we slept in had no heater and our vaporous snores resonated from beneath the many patchwork quilts.