e
rocks and fields themselves, on this side the boundary. We knew just
then how close to this familiar, every-day world might be the other,
which at times before had seemed so far away, out of reach of even our
thoughts, beyond the distant stars.

We stayed awhile longer, until the little black funeral had crawled out
of sight; until we had seen the last funeral guest go away and the door
had been shut and fastened with a queer old padlock and some links of
rusty chain. The door fitted loosely, and the man gave it a vindictive
shake, as if he thought that the poor house had somehow been to blame,
and that after a long desperate struggle for life under its roof and
among the stony fields the family must go away defeated. It is not
likely that any one else will ever go to live there. The man to whom the
farm was mortgaged will add the few forlorn acres to his pasture-land,
and the thistles which the man who is dead had fought so many years will
march in next summer and take unmolested possession.

I think to-day of that fireless, empty, forsaken house, where the winter
sun shines in and creeps slowly along the floor; the bitter cold is in
and around the house, and the snow has sifted in at every crack; outside
it is untrodden by any living creature's footstep. The wind blows and
rushes and shakes the loose window-sashes in their frames, while the
padlock knocks--knocks against the door.

_Miss Chauncey_

The Deephaven people used to say sometimes complacently, that certain
things or certain people were "as dull as East Parish." Kate and I grew
curious to see that part of the world which was considered duller than
Deephaven itself; and as upon inquiry we found that it was not out of
reach, one day we went there.

It was like Deephaven, only on a smaller scale. The village--though it
is a question whether that is not an exaggerated term to apply--had
evidently seen better days. It was on the bank of a river, and perhaps
half a mile from the sea. There were a few old buildings there, some
with mossy roofs and a great deal of yellow lichen on the sides of the
walls next the sea; a few newer houses, belonging to fishermen; some
dilapidated fish-houses; and a row of fish-flakes. Every house seemed to
have a lane of its own, and all faced different ways except two
fish-houses, which stood amiably side by side. There was a church, which
we had been told was the oldest in the region. Through the windows we
saw the hi