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These little indoor dwellers, in cottages and halls, were always entertaining to me; after dancing in the window all day from sunrise to sunset they would sip of the tea, drink of the beer, and eat of the sugar, and be welcome all the summer long. They look like things of mind or fairies, and seem pleased or dull as the weather permits. In many clean cottages and genteel houses, they are allowed every liberty to creep, fly, or do as they like; and seldom or ever do wrong. In fact they are the small or dwarfish portion of our own family, and so many fairy familiars that we know and treat as one of ourselves.
John Clare (1793-1864): House or Window Flies, n.d., from Asylum Poems, in Poems Chiefly from Manuscript, ed. Edmund Blunden and Alan Porter, 1920
small house 1. possibly the smallist house/cottage i ever seen. taken on the road between guyhirn and peterborough (A47): photo by Glenn, 15 May 2007
