if a man had a horse the journey was cruelly tedious, for there
were only a few stretches where the horse could go faster than a
walk--and the way was pock-marked with boulders and mudholes. With no
stage-coach before 1815, and being off the highway between Plymouth and
Boston, it is small wonder that the early Cohasset folk either walked or
went by sea to Hingham and thence to Boston.

It has been suggested that the "keeper of young cattle at Coneyhassett,"
who drove his herd over from Hingham, was moved either by piety or
sarcasm to give the trail its present arresting name. However, as the
herdsman did not take this route, but the back road through Turkey
Meadows, it is more probable that some visitors, who detected a
resemblance between this section of the country and the Holy Land, were
responsible for the christening of this road and also of the Sea of
Galilee--which last has almost dropped into disuse. There does not seem
to be any particular suggestion of the land of the Pharaohs and
present-day Egypt, but tradition explains that as follows: Old Squire
Perce had accumulated a store of grain in case of drought, and when the
drought came and the men hurried to him to buy corn, he greeted them
with "Well, boys, so you've come down to Egypt to buy corn." Another
proof, if one were needed, of the Biblical familiarity of those days.

It is hard to stop writing about Cohasset. There are so many bits of
history tucked into every ledge and cranny of her shore. The green in
front of the old white meeting-house--one of the prettiest and most
perfect meeting-houses on the South Shore--has been pressed by the feet
of men assembling for six wars. It makes Cohasset seem venerable,
indeed, when one thinks of the march of American history. But to the
tawny ledges, tumbling out to sea, these three hundred years are as but
a day; for the story of the stones, like the story of the stars, is
measured in terms of milliards. To such immemorial keepers of the coast
the life of man is a brief tale that is soon told, and fades as swiftly
as the fading leaf.

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] For much of this chapter I am indebted to my friend Alice C. Hyde.

CHAPTER VII

THE SCITUATE SHORE

[Illustration]

Scituate is different: different from Cohasset, with its superbly bold
coast and its fashionable folk; different from Hingham, with its air of
settled inland dignity. Scituate has a quaintness, a casualness, the
inde