PIERCE'S CORNERS. 309 



was passing through that shabby, genteel period 

 which follows in the wake of people who go up like a 

 rocket and come down like a stick. This was Pierce's, 

 or at least one of the places was Pierce's, or perhaps 

 both were, as there seemed to be a great number of 

 people of this name in that locality. At all events, 

 before I left I learned that the big house had been 

 built to eat up all the trade of the old house, and the 

 result was that both failed. At the time I was there 

 neither of them had a license, "couldn't afford it," 

 Carey said, but both sold what was called "proof." 

 Oh, but it was vile, and Carey said that "one could not 

 tell on the t'other, as he dasn't." Then the minister 

 could not say a word, as if he did, he would not have 

 a place to stop at when he came to the Corners to 

 preach. But this is local history. 



Bill patronized the old house. He did not believe 

 in new-fangled affairs with high ceilings and three or 

 four flights of stairs. He had lived in a shanty and 

 wanted things so that you could reach out and get 

 them without running over all creation. Driving into 

 the shed, he tied Old Bill to a post and made a move 

 for the house. Up to that time no one was in sight, not 

 even a dog or a hen. As we entered, a man of about 

 fifty-five, with an iron-gray mane that would have 

 done credit to a Percheron, rolled over on a bunk, and 

 after rubbing his eyes for a minute or two, said : 

 "How do," without making a move to get in an up- 

 right position. Thinks I, "what kind of a time is 

 Carey going to have at the Corners ?" To tell you the 

 truth, it did not look very exciting. 



In due time, however, Carey induced the landlord, 

 who was a Pierce, to get up and "give us something 



