is usually termed,--numbering some four dozen houses.
This village is seven and one-half miles from the town, affording a
delightful place of recreation for families from town, who, as the
summer holidays come round, harness up old Dobbin, and prepare for a six
weeks' "siesta." If, by reason of the great financial pressure, you find
you have not sufficient pocket-money to take you for a short tour to
Europe, come to "Sconset;" it is a glorious place! take a stroll along
that grand old beach, and watch the moon rise from out the ocean; then
go to your comfortable seven-by-nine lodgings, which seems like a
palace, draw the comfortable rug about you, and fall asleep, with old
Ocean for a lullaby, to dream (if your waking hours are fortunately of
that bent) of some old deserted castle, "Salem witchcraft," or a lone
"Grace Pool," attendant within the attic's most remote recesses.

The face of the island is level, so much so that the flat, bare commons
resemble somewhat our western prairies; and with the exception of the
cliffs at the north, and Sancoty Head, there are but few slight
elevations. Owing to the peculiar shape of the island, its two arms
stretching far out on either side, it does not appear to be as large as
it really is,--being about sixteen miles long, and four wide, affording
sufficient elbow room, however, for its eight thousand inhabitants. The
soil is sandy, but is cultivated to some extent; and though they can
boast of no extensive forests, yet you may occasionally meet with an old
friend in the way of a noble elm, or the pensive weeping willow. The
culture of fruit trees, also, is receiving much attention of later
years, and as widely as refinement must be separated from the islanders,
to be in keeping with your views, their love for the sweet spring
flowers knows no bounds.

In your walks of curiosity about town, you meet with a great many of the
denomination termed Friends, or Quakers, and as you pass them you cannot
refrain from giving them the inside walk, for their very garb is of
humility; and as you look into the placid face of some matron, you feel
like uncovering yourself, for you can see the innocence looking out of
her eyes. You are curious to know whither so many are wending their way,
and meeting a sailor-boy, he tells you it is "fifth day," and if you
follow in the wake of the "slick bonnets," they will pilot you to their
nearest light-house; but precious little light you will get unless the