Our outhouse back on the farm in Maine was a 3-holer: small, medium and large. There were plastered walls with a mural of a sailor dancing a hornpipe on one and a lascivious "yellar gal" dancing a fandango on another. This was an inspiring space to occupy as a growing child, until the pine tree blew down on the roof during a hurricane in the 1950's and radically altered the angle of declination...Things never were quite the same there after.

:~(,
Charley Noble