trees, which were originally black ash, a tree very rare in this part of New England. Many of these ash trees have died from age, and their places have been supplied by elms and maples. Two high posts of granite mark the entrance to the avenue, which extends for about two hundred feet to the door of the house. Opposite, across the narrow country road, a hill overlooks the village, and gives a fine view of the winding river, and distant mountains. A solitarypoplar crowns the summit of the hill, and affords a landmark to the river-voyager, as it can be seen for miles up and down the stream. A romantic legend is connected with this tree, about a party of young girls who were at school in the Old Manse, each of whom caused a tree to be set out, and called by her name. Year by year, the girls and trees grew up together in grace and beauty. At length, one by one, the old ladies died, and the trees died too, until one very old lady and this old weather-beaten poplar alone remained. The lady for whom the surviving poplar was named, has gone to her rest, and the tree seems likely to follow before long.

The large field at the left of the Old Manse, which divides it from the battle-ground, was, centuries ago, the site of an Indian village, and often rough arrows and spear-heads have been turned up by the plough.

It was in this room, too, that the ghost used to appear, according to Hawthorne, but it probably only existed in his brilliant imagination. Often, on a winter night, the latch of the old door has lifted without human help, and a gust of cold wind has swept into the room.

Opposite the study, is a larger room, which is modernized by rare photographs and recent adornments, and is used as a parlor by its present owners, the grandchildren of the original proprietors. From this apartment a door opens into the ancient dining-room, in which the old-time ministers held their solemn feasts, and it is said that they were well able to appreciate the good cheer which covered the long table that nearly filled the narrow hall. In one corner of this room stands a tall clock, looking across at its life-long companion, the ancient desk of Dr. Ripley; and a set of curious, old, high-backed chairs recall the days of our upright ancestors.

Opposite this room is a big kitchen with its enormous fire-place, which twenty-five years ago was used wholly by the present occupants for all purposes of cooking. The hooks which held the long, iron crane on which the pots and kettles hung still remain, although a modern cooking stove occupies the chief part of the broad hearth.

The Old Manse was the principal house of the