forest. From its first majestic upward sweeping limbs to its tufted
top reigned solemn and perpetual night. The wind scarcely swayed its
dense and plumy branches. It merely turned up the silvery sides of the
five-fingered clusters of needles which responded with a low melancholy
voice like an aeolian harp, or those minor chords composed under its
shade by my friend the Flute Player of Bellingham. In the woods when the
pines sing it is not these I hear but the lone tree by the Barber
mansion. It was the only tree in my reach I had never climbed. I was
afraid of its dark mysterious recesses--also of Captain Barber.

I grew old enough to do errands at longer and longer distances. It was
in doing them that I at length crossed the bridge, an event as important
to the child as the Rubicon to Caesar. I began the conquest of new
worlds and to beat down the Mendon ramparts. I was despatched to a more
distant neighbor, the great and wealthy house of the Pennimans. In a
clean frock and Sunday shoes, my face freshly washed, and with the
largess of one cent with which to buy candy at the Green Store I
departed full of anticipation, fear and excitement. To the bridge it was
a familiar way; beyond that half a mile, never before travelled by me. I
crossed the bridge with three skips and a jump; never had it seemed so
narrow; but once beyond I was assailed with a thousand frights. The
stone walls rose up to an intolerable height; behind them lurked
innumerable wicked men and bears. There was terror in everything, and I
looked back continually to see if the way of retreat remained open. When
at last I lost sight of my mother's cottage my heart almost stopped
beating. Should I ever find my way back? Should I ever see my home
again? I hurried forward without turning my head as if the only safety
now was in reaching my journey's end. Soon I climbed the eminence on
which stood the Penniman mansion. Its vast size astonished me. It was
two storied with a high gambrel roof making in effect a third story.
Through the gambrel peaks rose two great chimneys, and I wondered what
two chimneys could be for. Elaborate cornices surmounted the doors and
windows; the doors were all closed, the windows draped; there was no
sign of life anywhere. High shrubbery in bloom surrounded the house on
three sides. There was not even a wood pile in sight, that most common
accompaniment of every door yard I had ever seen. The barn and other out
buildings were at some