THE QUAINT CAPE CODDERS. 



Ah, what a life were this 1 



-Henr\ ri. 



ON my journey down here, via the Old Colon}' Rail- 

 road, I was much impressed by the evidences on 

 every hand of the bitter struggle the sturdy Cape 

 Cod people have to wage at all times to provide the 

 rude shelter and homely fare which their existence in 

 these barren stretches of sand dunes, pine forests and 

 cranberry bogs demands. We can, without any trouble, 

 read in their faces the story of scanty crops, grown on 

 poor soil ; of continued exposure to wind and weather in 

 the pursuit of the finny tribe that swim in the numerous 

 bays and channels as well as in the dangerous regions of 

 the " Grand Banks " and Block Island, or in the laborious 

 and patience-trying business of raising cranberries. 



The Old Colony Railroad, whose stock is held largely 

 by the natives of Cape Cod, and who look upon it as the 

 great railroad of the world, has a time-honored custom of 

 giving to its stockholders on the Cape a free ticket to 

 Boston and return, in order that they may attend the 

 Road's annual meeting in that city. A man owning one 

 share has this privilege in common with his more wealthy 



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