IN OLD PONKAPOAG 31 



his later life in what was then the quaint old vil- 

 lage of Ponkapoag, as if the flowers of fancy to 

 which he gave wings still hovered there. At 

 nightfall it is easy along these meadows to 



"See where at intervals the firefly's spark 

 Glimmers and melts into the fragrant dark; 

 Gilds a leaf's edge one happy instant, then 

 Leaves darkness all a mystery again." 



The quaint old Ponkapoag of not so very many 

 years ago is changing fast. The trolley car passes 

 and repasses in what was once its one street. The 

 real estate man has come and modern houses grow 

 up over night, almost, in the empty spaces over the 

 old stone walls, while in the surrounding pastures 

 and woodland appear the mansions of those who 

 seek large estates not too far from the city. Sub- 

 urban life begins to crowd Ponkapoag and the 

 little self-centered country village of the genuine 

 New England type passes. Most, however, of the 

 sturdy old houses of a century or more ago remain 

 and much of the beauty of the country round about 

 them. On Sundays and holidays Ponkapoag Pond 

 teems with an uproarious holiday crowd, but on 

 weekdays one may still enjoy its beauty unmo- 



