r. At the entrance to the
council-chamber are still the racks for the twelve muskets of the
governor's guard--so long ago dismissed!

Some valuable family portraits adorn the walls here, among which is a
fine painting-yes, by our friend Copley--of the lovely Dorothy Quincy,
who married John Hancock, and afterward became Madam Scott. This lady
was a niece of Dr. Holme's "Dorothy Q." Opening on the council-chamber
is a large billiard-room; the billiard-table is gone, but an ancient
spinnet, with the prim air of an ancient maiden lady, and of a wheezy
voice, is there; and in one corner stands a claw-footed buffet, near
which the imaginative nostril may still detect a faint and tantalizing
odor of colonial punch. Opening also on the council-chamber are several
tiny apartments, empty and silent now, in which many a close rubber has
been played by illustrious hands. The stillness and loneliness of the
old house seem saddest here. The jeweled fingers are dust, the merry
laughs have turned themselves into silent, sorrowful phantoms, stealing
from chamber to chamber. It is easy to believe in the traditional ghost
that haunts the place--

"A jolly place in times of old,
But something ails it now!"

The mansion at Little Harbor is not the only historic house that bears
the name of Wentworth. On Pleasant Street, at the head of Washington
Street, stands the abode of another colonial worthy, Governor John
Wentworth, who held office from 1767 down to the moment when the
colonies dropped the British yoke as if it had been the letter H. For
the moment the good gentleman's occupation was gone. He was a royalist
of the most florid complexion. In 1775, a man named John Fenton, and
ex-captain in the British army, who had managed to offend the Sons of
Liberty, was given sanctuary in this house by the governor, who refused
to deliver the fugitive to the people. The mob planted a small cannon
(unloaded) in front of the doorstep and threatened to open fire if
Fenton were not forthcoming. He forth-with came. The family vacated
the premises via the back-yard, and the mob entered, doing considerable
damage. The broken marble chimney-place still remains, mutely protesting
against the uncalled-for violence. Shortly after this event the governor
made his way to England, where his loyalty was rewarded first with a
governorship and then with a pension of L500. He was governor of Nova
Scotia from 1792 to 1800, and died in Halifax in 1820. T