ON THE NORTH SHORE AGAIN 111 



golden autumnal hills. I can see them yet, 

 though I have nothing to say about them. 



" The world lies east : bow ample, the marsh and the sea 

 and the sky!" 



Trains of gulls went flying up the inlet as 

 the tide went out. They live by the sea's 

 almanac as truly as the clam-diggers, two of 

 whom I had watched, an hour before, sailing 

 across the inlet in a rude boat (more pictur- 

 esque by half than a gentleman's yacht), and 

 setting about their day's work on a shoal 

 newly uncovered. Thank Heaven, there are 

 still some occupations that cannot be carried 

 on in a factory. 



The roadsides were bright with gay- 

 colored fruits : barberries, thorn apples, Rox- 

 bury waxwork, and rose-hips. Of thorn 

 bushes there were at least two kinds ; one 

 already bare-branched, with scattered small 

 fruit ; the other still in leaf, and loaded with 

 gorgeous clusters of large red apples. More 

 interesting to me than any of these were the 

 frost grapes ; familiar acquaintances of an 

 Old Colony boyhood, but now grown to be 

 strangers. They were shining black, ripe 



