LEGENDS OF THE PISCATAQUA. 383
shoes are made in this great establishment for American and foreign trade. These goods seem to be for real service, superior to any known in the country. The special effort in production is to attain all serviceable qualities and dura- bility. These goods consetjuently find a ready sale, not only all over the United States but in the West Indies, along the east and west coast of South America, in Egypt and South Africa, New Zealand and Australia, as well as in several European ports.
In June, 1877, William S. Pillsbury was appointed aid-de-camp, with the rank of Colonel, on the staff of Gov. Prescott.
Many anecdotes have been gathered by the writer from authentic sources relating to Col. Pillsbury's experiences while a soldier and when engaged in various business enterprises or travelling, but space will not allow their relation here. It remains but to say that Col. Pillsbury's example and character are worth considerate attention for imitation by young men entering the arena of practical life, as well as for the satisfaction of minds interested in manly aims successfully accomplished.
��LEGENDS OF THE PISCATAQUA.
��BY ANNIE W. BAER.
FROM small lakes in the town of Wakefield, New Hampshire, this river starts for the distant sea. For many miles it leads a prosaic, every- day life, carrying mills of various kinds, dammed here and there only to escape and dash wildly on for a httle space, destined to be captured and subjected to gates again.
The northern portion of the river is generally called the Salmon Falls ; but some, versed in Indian lore, call it the Newichawanock. At South Berwick the river plunges over its last dam, turns its last turbine or over-shot wheel, and hastens on to answer Ocean's call, at the harbor, ten miles below. Many have told of the beauties of the river. One poet, reared within sight of its sparkling waters, sings of its
'■ Soft banks, goldon brown, AVhere the punl)eams love to settle down. And linger, one by one."'
I have often thought how the water of our river mingles with the briny water of the broad ocean, bears ships on its bosom, dashes against cliffs on foreign coasts ; and I wonder if each little tide-wave, as it rolls up on our shore, tells of far-away lands and of mysteries under the sea. What a pleasant thought to people "who follow the sea," that the same water that is bearing them to a distant port may flow into their river some day, and murmur news of them to the mossy banks they loved so well.
In the war of 1S12 many vessels ran into the harbor at Portsmouth. In order to be safe from the ravages of the " bold privateer," several of them were towed by Captain Hobbs — who lived near St. .Alban's cove — up the river and anchored in Madam's cove, opposite Folsom's wharf. One of the vessels, a small French brig, was wrecked during the winter following. When spring came the owners had all that was worth saving taken out, and the hulk was left to bleach and decay in Piscataqua's waters. Captain Hobbs owned a topsail schooner, and he made many voyages to the West Indies with great success. Once, while coming from the coast of North Carolina, laden with corn and tar,
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