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 : how 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 



