14 OUT-OF-TOWN PLACES. 



road, and gave a " good morning " to the drivers. 

 Then came the toll-gate : I wondered if the day's 

 profits would be equal to the toll ? After this came 

 the milk wagons whisking by me, and I envied them 

 their short rounds ; at last (the sun being now two 

 hours high) came sight of the market town city, I 

 should say; for the legislature had given it long 

 before the benefit of the title ; and on the score of 

 church spires, and taverns, and shops, and news- 

 papers, and wickedness, it deserved the name. 



I wish I could catch sight once more of the old 

 gentleman (a good grocer as the times went) who 

 plunged his thumb-nails into my golden rolls of but- 

 ter, and said : " We're buying pooty fair butter at 

 twelve and a half cents, but seein' as it's you, we'll 

 say thirteen cents a pound for this ;" and he cleaned 

 his thumb-nail upon the breech of his trowsers. 



I am not romancing here, I am only telling a 

 plain, straightforward story of my advent, some 

 twenty years ago, upon a summer's morning into the 

 city of !N" . I recall now vividly the detestably 

 narrow and muddy streets the poor horse, (I had 

 bought it of the son of our deacon,) wheezing with 

 his twelve-mile drive my own empty faint stomach 

 the glimpses of the beautiful river between the 

 hills and the golden butter which I must needs sell 

 to my friend the grocer at thirteen cents. I hope he 



