FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 207 



XL. 



I SUPPOSE that most people, at some time 

 or other in their careers, &quot; get their come- 

 upance,&quot; to use the vernacular of these 

 New England States. This was my reflec 

 tion, as I went up from the inn yesterday 

 and turned into High street, when I beheld 

 upon the descending road an army of 

 dark-hued men from the shores of the Medi 

 terranean, not with banners, but with pick 

 axes and shovels, with great wires and 

 cross-ties and iron rails, digging and pulling 

 and hammering, drawing and quartering, 

 and realized that vengeance was being 

 meted out to the Goths and the Vandals, the 

 Ostrogoths and the Visigoths, for their 

 descent upon the sunny South a millennium 

 ago. And taking refuge from Scylla, I came 

 near unto falling into Charybdis ; for there 

 in front of me, turning into the street at the 

 other end, was a wandering troubadour, pre 

 sumably of the same stock, with an instru 

 ment of torture like unto an upright piano 

 loaded upon a go-cart. I incontinently fled 



