Old Concord, her highways and byways; . ld road, as it was then,could be reproduced for us ! But the most slenderaccounts of the original appearance of the settle-ment, are all that remain for us. We can reachback quite far, however, to credible tales. Thememory of our friend, of traditions told to him,supplies much that is interesting. Old Montifuero, an Italian, lived on the espla-nade midway between Meriams Corner and house. He made confections and a certainkind of cakes, quite as popular as the Electioncake of training-day renown. Mr. Bull relatesthat on a sad recital in Montifuer
Old Concord, her highways and byways; . ld road, as it was then,could be reproduced for us ! But the most slenderaccounts of the original appearance of the settle-ment, are all that remain for us. We can reachback quite far, however, to credible tales. Thememory of our friend, of traditions told to him,supplies much that is interesting. Old Montifuero, an Italian, lived on the espla-nade midway between Meriams Corner and house. He made confections and a certainkind of cakes, quite as popular as the Electioncake of training-day renown. Mr. Bull relatesthat on a sad recital in Montifueros ears, of the illhealth of good Dr. Ripley, he looked at first sym-pathetic, then brightened up. If he die, what alot of cakes I will sell, anticipating the big crowddrawn to the town. One French, who served in the Revolution, livedat one time in Mr. Bulls house. He was a black-smith, and his shop was in the corner of the groundsnext to The Wayside which it adjoins. He livedthere till two years before Mr. Bull came, whichwas in THE LARCH PA IH ON WAYSIDE GROUNDS. Her HioJncays and Byways. 59 In the corner of Love Lane, which strikes offfrom the Lexington road opposite The Wayside,stood a large Headquarters for the stage depart-ment ; the letters were distributed by the stages andtaken up from the deputy post-office for this quarter,which was kept in the little square house, formingthe main part of The Wayside, whose time of build-ing antedates all traditions. In this little houselived one Samuel Hoar, a man who came fromLincoln, a wheelwright by profession. The storyp-oes that he lived and died in the belief that whenhe died, his spirit would pass into a white horse.(He was evidently trying to eclipse the former occu-pant of the dwelling whom Hawthorne has madeimmortal by recounting his fixed belief that he hadfound the secret of perpetual life.) His shop stoodin the angle of the old stone wall adjoining thegrounds of our friend IMr. Bull. Long years after,it was cut i
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