The town, we find, is situated on the northern shore of the island, at the harbor’s head.  The houses are compact, and most of them built of wood, with little regard to beauty; though some few residences there are, of modern style, which do credit to their designers; but the greater number speak only of antiquity, with their shingled sides; and you will rarely see a house that has not a “walk” upon its roof, with which they could by no means dispense, as in case of ship-wreck near the island, the roofs of the whole town will be alive with men, women, and children, spyglass in hand.  Besides the town there are but one or two small villages, “Polpis,” and the far-famed “Siaconset,” or “Sconset,” as it 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