Cannon Field 
lets of its favourites, the flowers, and the people 
have to send elsewhere for their cabbages. 
We thank the earth for this : fish-flakes and 
flowers belong to Digby ; cabbages belong 
to anybody. 
Digby has cherries, however. The place is 
full of gnarled old trees, and there are orchards 
of them in the country round about. 
If Digby had picturesque houses, it would be 
almost too charming a spot for the visitor. It 
has two or three. They are to be found 
on the Racquet, an inlet running in along one 
side of the town. They are little gray, wide- 
roofed, old fisherman's houses, guiltless of paint 
and very much the worse for wear. Digby no 
doubt is ashamed of them, and they must be 
very uncomfortable to live in, but with their 
tall hollyhocks, their clustering fish-flakes, the 
background of water, and the distant mountain- 
top, they make distracting pictures. 
Behind them are the wharves where the fish- 
ing-schooners come in to leave their burdens 
of cod. The ships sail up the Racquet in gal- 
lant style. It is a pretty sheet of water, with 
its curving shore-line and its background of 
Beaman's Mountain ; and one never would sus- 
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