. Down east latch strings; or Seashore, lakes and mountains by the Boston & Maine railroad. Descriptive of the tourist region of New England . an whose cap bears thename we want, we are soon rattling up the hill in a half-frantic pro-cession of buckboards and dog-carts, phaetons, and road-wagons,which deploy at the top of the street, and go plunging away to thevarious hotels as if panic-stricken. This main front street is set with fantastic shops, several of whichare conducted by leading Boston dealers. The biggest hotels, also,are down in this democratic, level end of town; and their balconie
. Down east latch strings; or Seashore, lakes and mountains by the Boston & Maine railroad. Descriptive of the tourist region of New England . an whose cap bears thename we want, we are soon rattling up the hill in a half-frantic pro-cession of buckboards and dog-carts, phaetons, and road-wagons,which deploy at the top of the street, and go plunging away to thevarious hotels as if panic-stricken. This main front street is set with fantastic shops, several of whichare conducted by leading Boston dealers. The biggest hotels, also,are down in this democratic, level end of town; and their balconiesare crowded with people in comfortably neglige attire, who gaze at uswith welcoming curiosity as we hurry past. One of the biggest of allthese hotels, standing on the front street and looking more like a hugefactory than a hotel, save for its spacious portico and wide-open doors,is thus spoken of by Charles Dudley Warner : — a sort of big board- i 57 hesitatini,^ whether to be a hotel or not; a go-as-you-please,X J-lf sort of place, which is popular because it has its own^ ^nd everybody drifts into it first or last. Some say it is an. ./;>x4? ^ neople do not take to it at first. The big ofiice isJpom, where new arrivals are scanned and dis- and the droTrning cries they have heard! What tales can be toldthe winter firelight by these old island-men who have foughtconquered the storms of Maine for so many years! For here, when the night roars round, and under The white sea lightens and leaps like fire,Acclaimed of 6torm and applauded in thunder, Sits death on the throne of his crowned , hardly the hand of the god might fashion, A seat more strong for his strength to take,For the might of his heart, and the pride of his passion To rejoice in the wars they make. But no wrath of storm and wreak of whirlwind are in theThe sun glints on lace-like lines of spume, trailed across thtwaves of Frenchmans bay, and in the sky the few soft clomchange form or position. We never
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookiddowneastlatc, bookyear1887
