74 - 
cape COD. 
Twenty miles by railroad/’ he repeated. 
“ Did n’t you ever hear of Concord of Revolutionary 
fame ? ” 
“ Did n’t I ever hear of Concord ? Why, I heard the 
guns fire at the battle of Bunker Hill. [They hear the 
sound of heavy cannon across the Bay.] I am almost 
ninety; I am eighty-eight year old. I was fourteen 
year old at the time of Concord Fight, — and where were 
you then ? ” 
We were obliged to confess that we were not in the 
fight. 
“ Well, walk in, we ’ll leave it to the women,” said he. 
So we walked in, surprised, and sat down, an old 
woman taking our hats and bundles, and the old man 
continued, drawing up to the large, old-fashioned fire¬ 
place, — 
“ I am a poor good-for-nothing crittur, as Isaiah says; 
I am all broken down this year. I am under petticoat 
government here.” 
The family consisted of the old man, his wife, and his 
daughter, who appeared nearly as old as her mother, 
a fool, her son (a brutish-looking, middle-aged man, with 
a prominent lower face, who was standing by the hearth 
when we entered, but immediately went out), and a little 
boy of ten. 
While my companion talked with the women, I talked 
with the old man. They said that he was old and fool¬ 
ish, but he was evidently too knowing for them. 
“These women,” said he to me, “are both of them 
poor good-for-nothing critturs. This one is my wife. I 
married her sixty-four years ago. She is eighty-four 
years old, and as deaf as an adder, and the other is not 
much better.” 
