DYEK'S HOLLOW. 



" Quiet hours 



Pass'd among these heaths of ours 

 By the grey Atlantic sea." 



MATTHEW ARNOLD. 



I LIVED for three weeks at the "Castle," 

 though, unhappily, I did not become aware 

 of my romantic good fortune till near the 

 close of my stay. There was no trace of 

 battlement or turret, nothing in the least 

 suggestive of Warwick or Windsor, or of 

 Sir Walter Scott. In fact, the Castle was 

 not a building of any kind, but a hamlet; 

 a small collection of houses, a somewhat 

 scattered collection, it must be owned, 

 such as, on the bleaker and sandier parts 

 of Cape Cod, is distinguished by the name 

 of village. On one side flowed the river, 

 doubling its course through green meadows 

 with almost imperceptible motion. As I 

 watched the tide come in, I found myself 

 saying, 



