54 PASTORAL BAYS. 



every Saturday evening brings just such an exodus as this : Husbands 

 and fathers who fly from the hot and crowded city for a Sunday of quiet 

 and content with their families, who year after year have found a refuge of 

 peace and comfort in this charming New England town. Where is it ? 

 Talk with almost any one familiar with the picturesque boroughs of the 

 Housatonic, and your curiosity will be gratified, for this village will be 

 among the first to be described. 



From the platform of the car we step into the midst of a motley 

 assemblage, rustic peasantry and fashionable aristocracy intermingled. 

 Anxious and eager faces meet you at every turn. For a few minutes the 

 air fairly rings with kisses, as children welcome fathers, and fathers chil- 

 dren. Strange vehicles crowd the depot — vehicles of all sizes and descrip- 

 tions, from the veritable " one-hoss shay " to the dainty basket-phaeton of 

 fashion. One by one the merry loads depart, while I, a pilgrim to my old 

 home, stand almost unrecognized by the familiar faces around me. Lean- 

 ing up against the porch near by, stands a character which, once seen, 

 could never be forgotten. His face is turned from me, but the old straw 

 hat I recognize as the hat of ten years ago, with brim pulled down to a 

 slope in front, and pushed up vertically behind, and the identical hole in 

 the side with the long hair sticking throuQ-h. Yes, there he stands — 

 Amos Shoopegg. I step up to him and lay my hand upon his shoulder. 

 With creditable skill he unwinds the twist of his intricate legs, and with 

 an inquiring gaze turns his good-natured face toward me. 



" Is it possible that you don't remember me, Shoop ?" 



With an expression of surprise he raises both his arms. " Waal, thar ! 

 I swaiou ! I didn't cal'late on runnin' agin yeu. I was jes clrivin' hum 

 from taown-meetin', an' thought as haow I'd take a turn in, jest out o' cur'- 

 osity. Wa'al, naow, it's pesky good to see yeu agin arter sech a long spell. 

 I didn't realize ye at fust, but I swan when ye began a-talkin', that was 

 enuf fer me. Hello! fetched yer woman 'long tew, hey? Haow air yeu, 

 ma'am ? hope ye'er perty tol'ble. Don't see but what yeu look's nateral's 

 ever ; but yer man here, I declar fort, he got the best on me at fust ;" and 

 after having thus delivered himself, he swallowed up our hands in his 

 ample fists. 



" Yes, Shoop, I thought I'd just run up to the old home for a few 

 days." 



" Wa'al, I swar ! I'm tarnal glad to see ye, and that's a fact. Anybody 

 cum up arter ye ? No ? Well, then, s'posin' ye jest highst into my team." 



