his farm known as Major's Smith's pasture land. It could have
been bought for a mere song. But now some of the land had brought over
six thousand dollars an acre. How she did wish that her father had been
far-seeing enough to have bought up all this shore when he could have
done so for a mere pittance!

They stopped every little while to enjoy the fine ocean-views which the
Point afforded. Mr. Gordon's business eye was noticing every
improvement.

"They'll miss it," he said, as they passed in sight of the observatory
on Doctor Bartol's place across the stream, "if they do not build a
bridge over to Tuck's Landing. People then could drive directly there
from Point Rocks here, instead of going way round through the town. It
must come in time. It will come."

He seemed thus to have settled the matter, as far as himself was
concerned; and then wondered why that little wooden building was being
erected on the landing owned by the town. He found out its use, however,
when, a few weeks later, he was an invited guest to one of the annual
picnics held by the "Elder Brethren." These gatherings, he learned, had
become quite an institution for the mingling of fish chowders and bright
speeches.

Continuing their drive, they soon paused in front of the Howe place, for
its fine sea-view, and, later on, by the Black residence, for the added
inland view. The sight of Lobster Cove brought to mind the many good
picnics once enjoyed there. Soon Gale's Point was behind them, and they
were driving past the Masconomo, the hotel which gives such a pretty
background of human interest to Old Neck beach. This Indian name
suggested Indian history to Mrs. Gordon. She was so surprised that her
children were ignorant of Masconomo, the sagamore of Agawam.

"Why, this town ought to have been named Masconomo," she added, after
having told them of his kind treatment of Governor Endicott's men, when
in 1630 they landed on these, his shores. "I am glad that Mr. Booth
remembered him when he built this hotel. I thanked him once for it."

As she finished speaking, she called attention to the quaint,
sloping-roof house perched upon a large, high rock, which they were then
passing. This was the one which Mr. James T. Fields had built and
occupied a number of summers before his death. The sight of it brought
to mind some pleasant little experiences of her friendship with him,
which she related as they continued their drive down the Old Neck road.
On this