DYER'S HOLLOW. 87 



edifying spectacle it was, this venerable 

 worthy sitting behind his bunch of wooden 

 decoys, a wounded tern fluttering in agony 

 at his feet. Withal, be it said, he was a 

 man of gentlemanly bearing, courteous, and 

 a Christian. He did not shoot on Sunday, 



not he. Such sport is to me despicable. 

 Yet it is affirmed by those who ought to 

 know by those, that is, who engage in it 



that it tends to promote a spirit of man- 

 liness. 



But thoughts of this kind belong not in 

 Dyer's Hollow. Kather let me remember 

 only its stillness and tranquillity, its inno- 

 cent inhabitants, its gray hills, its sandy 

 road, and the ocean at the end of the way. 

 Even at the western extremity, near the rail* 

 way and the busy harbor, the valley was the 

 very abode of quietness. Here, on one of 

 my earlier excursions, I came unexpectedly 

 to a bridge, and on the farther side of the 

 bridge to a tidy house and garden ; and in 

 the garden were several pear-trees, with 

 fruit on them ! Still more to my surprise, 

 here was a little shop. The keeper of it had 

 also the agency of some insurance company, 



so a signboard informed the passer-by. 



