ompany, which was incorporated in 1851, and
has always included among its Directors and Managers the best business
men in the town and county, who naturally take great pride in it as one
of the soundest Life Insurance Companies of the country.

In the same building are three national and one savings bank, besides
the town and other offices. Immediately beyond is Mr. Atwood's drug
store, an establishment of long standing, which would bear favorable
comparison with any similar store as regards either attention or
knowledge of a druggist's duties. Farther along the same street are
Central Block and the Academy of Music. In other parts of Pittsfield
broad streets, lined with tall elms and shady horse-chestnut trees,
invite our footsteps. The dwelling-houses are mostly of wood, built in
the cottage and villa styles of architecture; many are stately edifices;
many are hospitable mansions; all show unmistakable evidence of being
comfortable homes. Scattered over the township, each springing up around
a mill or two, are miniature villages. Their population is largely made
up of foreigners, Irish and Germans, whose condition appears to be
somewhat better than that of the same class in cities. Both sexes are
represented among the operatives. The mills, mostly small, are located
with a view to an opportunity for using water power, yet none are
without steam power as well. In the same neighborhood are the large
farms and expensive estates of the mill-owners, the wealthiest class in
the community. Between the villages, in fact, upon all the roads, every
turn brings in sight pleasing views which never repeat themselves or
become monotonous. The cemetery is itself one of the most beautiful
spots in the neighborhood. A massive granite gateway is being put up,
the gift of the late Thomas Allen. For a long distance the road leads
through a thick forest of maple, pine and oak trees. A swiftly-running
brook crosses the path; a quiet clear pond with grassy banks lies to one
side. If the visitor will remain motionless for a short time, birds and
squirrels show themselves in all directions, and fill his ears with the
sounds of the woods. Far away may be seen the white houses and the
church spires of the town. No resting place for the dead could be more
peaceful, more inspiring to meditation on the part of those who walk in
the light of day. By the grave of General Bartlett stands a cross all
covered with graceful hanging Southern moss. Below i