OUT-OF-TOWN PLACES 



there some clump of giant oaks or chestnuts 

 about a loitering brooklet,) the cattle quad- 

 rupled in number, the muck-lands yielding 

 their harvests to be composted with the con- 

 centrated manures of the town, the very walls 

 to be straightened (of which a beginning had 

 been made), and such stir and movement and 

 growth and cumulative fertility as should 

 make the neighborhood open its eyes wide, 

 and stare to a purpose. I saw the wasting 

 rivulets dammed and distributing their fer- 

 tilizing flow over acres of the side-land ; I saw 

 the maple swamps giving place to wide 

 stretches of heavy meadow; I saw the wild 

 growth of the pasture-lands cut and piled and 

 burned, and all the hillsides glittering with a 

 new wealth of green. 



But it was not to be. In the very heat of the 

 endeavor, there came a flattering invitation to 

 change the scene of labor and of observation, 

 a single night only being given for decision. 

 I remember the night as if only this morning's 

 sun broke it, and kindled it into day. One 

 way, the brooks, the oaks, the crops, the 

 memories, the homely hopes, lured me; the 

 other way, I saw splendid and enticing phan- 

 tasmagoria — London Bridge, St. Paul's, 

 Prince Hal, Fleet Street, Bolt Court, Kenil- 



24 



