AN OLD-STYLE FARM, 3 



of which upon that bare waste was a terrible source 

 of discomfort to the poor brutes who, after a drive 

 of three, four, or even five miles, stood shivering in 

 the December weather under the lee of the fences. 

 A good, kind parson, who presided over the parish 

 in the days of which I speak, was earnest in his appeals 

 for shelter to the poor brutes, (my little bay mare 

 often shivering among them,) but the charitable en- 

 thusiasm of the good minister counted for nothing ; 

 and to this day, as I am credibly informed, the " con- 

 templated sheds " remain unbuilt. 



There was a tavern, lying to the northward, along 

 the turnpike ; and if I remember rightly, the tavern- 

 keeper was a deacon a staid man, of course, who 

 kept an orderly house, and whose daughters, in flam- 

 boyant ribbons, were among the belles of the parish. 

 The father was, I believe, a most worthy man ; but 

 his rusty brown wig showed badly beside the great 

 flock of golden curls that flanked him in his meeting- 

 house pew. His boys were absentees, and addicted 

 to horse-trading. 



There was a cooper's shop upon the sprawling 

 street, in which a great clatter and bang were kept 

 up every work-day upon shad-barrels. There was 

 a carriage-repairing shop ; and another way-side 

 smithy, where time and time again, I have watched 

 the heaving of the bellows, and the flying of the 



