the outbreak of the Revolution. It had a large,
comfortable house shaded by some of the Cambridge elms, which Lowell
characteristically remarks were unable fortunately to emigrate with
the tax-collector, and the grounds were beautified by the trees and
flowers which were the delight of Dr. Lowell, the poet's father.

In Cambridge streets were to be seen many of the sights characteristic
of New England village life, suggesting still the village life of
England when Shakespeare was a boy. The coach rumbled on its way to
Boston, then a little journey away, and old women gathered around
the town spring for their weekly washing of clothes. At the inn were
discussed all those questions of law, religion, and politics that had
not been settled at the town-meeting, and the village barber-shop,
with its choice collection of rarities, had the dignity of a museum.
So fascinating was this place that the boy who had to have his hair
cut was considered in luck, and was usually accompanied by several of
his play-fellows, who took this means of feasting their eyes upon the
barber's treasures. Here were tomahawks, Indian bows and arrows, New
Zealand paddles and war-clubs, beaks of albatrosses and penguins, and
whales' teeth; here were caged canaries and Java sparrows, and one
large cockatoo who, the barber asserted, spoke Hottentot. Old Dutch
prints covered the walls, and the boys were barbered under the
pictured eyes of Frederick the Great and Bonaparte. Perhaps the
choicest treasure was the glass model of a ship which the young
patrons valued at from one hundred to a thousand dollars, the barber
always acquiescing in these generous valuations.

Once a year Cambridge celebrated a curious festival called the
Cornwallis, in which, in masquerade, the town's people and country
people marched in grotesque processions in honor of the surrender of
Cornwallis. There was also the annual muster, when the militia
were drilled under the eyes of their admiring wives, mothers,
and daughters. But the great event of the year at Cambridge was
Commencement Day. The entire community was aroused to do its best
in the celebration of this festival, the fame of which had spread to
every corner of New England. The village was turned into a great
fair, where came every kind of vender and showman to take the places
assigned them by the town constable; the gayly decorated booths
extended in an orderly row along the streets, and the entire
population gaped unre