hich Nature has a larger share than man. These
huts are placed beneath the trees, oaks, walnuts, and white-pines,
wherever the trunks give them space to stand; and by thus adapting
themselves to natural interstices, instead of making new ones, they do
not break or disturb the solitude and seclusion of the place. Voices are
heard, and the shouts and laughter of children, who play about like the
sunbeams that come down through the branches. Women are washing in open
spaces, and long lines of whitened clothes are extended from tree to
tree, fluttering and gambolling in the breeze. A pig, in a sty even more
extemporary than the shanties, is grunting and poking his snout through
the clefts of his habitation. The household pots and kettles are seen at
the doors; and a glance within shows the rough benches that serve for
chairs, and the bed upon the floor. The visitor's nose takes note of the
fragrance of a pipe. And yet, with all these homely items, the repose
and sanctity of the old wood do not seem to be destroyed or profaned. It
overshadows these poor people, and assimilates them somehow or other to
the character of its natural inhabitants. Their presence did not shock
me any more than if I had merely discovered a squirrel's nest in a tree.
To be sure, it is a torment to see the great, high, ugly embankment of
the railroad, which is here thrusting itself into the lake, or along its
margin, in close vicinity to this picturesque little hamlet. I have
seldom seen anything more beautiful than the cove on the border of which
the huts are situated; and the more I looked, the lovelier it grew. The
trees overshadowed it deeply; but on one side there was some brilliant
shrubbery which seemed to light up the whole picture with the effect of
a sweet and melancholy smile. I felt as if spirits were there,--or as if
these shrubs had a spiritual life. In short, the impression was
indefinable; and, after gazing and musing a good while, I retraced my
steps through the Irish hamlet, and plodded on along a wood-path.

According to my invariable custom, I mistook my way; and, emerging upon
the road, I turned my back instead of my face towards Concord, and
walked on very diligently till a guide-board informed me of my mistake.
I then turned about, and was shortly overtaken by an old yeoman in a
chaise, who kindly offered me a drive, and soon set me down in the
village.

THE NORMAN CONQUEST.

This month of October completes the eighth