94 ALONG THE HILLSBOROUGH. 



the village street. One might live and die 

 in a New England village without seeing 

 such a sight. A Yankee would have be- 

 taken himself to the corner grocery. But 

 here, though that " adjunct of civilization *' 

 was directly across the way, most likely it 

 had never had a stove in it. The sun would 

 give warmth enough in an hour, by nine 

 o'clock one would probably be glad of a 

 sunshade ; but the man was chilly after his 

 ride ; it was still a bit early to go about the 

 business that had brought him into town : 

 what more natural than to hitch his horse, 

 get together a few sticks, and kindle a blaze ? 

 What an insane idea it would have seemed 

 to him that a passing stranger might re- 

 member him and his fire three months 

 afterward, and think them worth talking 

 about in print ! But then, as was long ago 

 said, it is the fate of some men to have 

 greatness thrust upon them. 



This main street of the village, by the 

 way, with its hotels and shops, was no other 

 than my river road itself, in its more civil- 

 ized estate, as I now remember with a sense 

 of surprise. In my mind the two had never 

 any connection. It was in this thorough- 



