present owner. The house in which he lives is stored with ancient articles. Standing on red dressers large pewter platters and round porringers form a bright array. A long necked gourd, used to hold coffee, has hung for years in the old "dresser room." On the red brick hearth a tiny iron skillet stood, and was used in lieu of a wash basin. In the " fore-room" a buffet, built in one corner, held the best dishes of the family. A bed, made up plump and square, covered with a blue woolen coverlet, quilted in "feathers and straight work," occupied considerable space. Behind the door, a tall eight-day clock told the true time to those who opened the door and peeped in. Once, while calling here, I saw a large bible, and was told that it was printed in numbers and then bound. The Robertses were scholarly people, and took the newspapers, when none of their neighbors could afford to, and the people used to gather there to hear the news.
In a back bed-room stands a chest of drawers with " Sarah Miller " painted on the back. She was a daughter of Dr. Thomas Miller, and married a Roberts, and this was her property. In this house the rooms are sheathed to the ceiling with wide boards, and were painted dark red. In the attic, linen wheels, spinning wheels, reels, swifts, barley riddles, and many other implements of the long-ago can be seen. A set of tiny scales belonged to this family, and people came from far and near to get money weighed. They are treasured by the present owner.
In the corner of this " granted " land, near the brook, a deer was shot, not many years ago. A little above where the deer gave up his life, the water runs between steep banks. As I walked on, the tall pines were whispering softly over my head, and tiny oaks and maples were rustling their large leaves, as if to attract my attention. Huge slaty stones raised themselves in the middle of the brook, and the water swirled angrily around them. One group of rocks resembled a St. Andrew's cross, and only lacked the four letters to make the cross complete.
This place is called "The-Falls." On the bank above stands a deserted dwelling-house. A long time ago ii was used for a pest house. .. I thought what a pretty, quiet place for people suffering with that loathsome disease to be brought to. The smell of the woods, and the song of the birds, mingled with the rushing of the water. must have been grateful to those poor bodies, worn with sickness. A wheel path skirts the brook for several rods. Where the brook crossed this path, a saw-mill stood, in the days gone by. At my right, in the field beyond, the cellar of the old Merrow house can be seen, and a few apple trees are left oi the ancient orchard. This Merrow was given to using lengthy words, regardless of their significance. At one time he was relating a slight that someone had put upon him, and ended his. complaint by saying, " I presented that, now I tell ye." He was one of the signers of the petition that the parish of Somersworth might be incoporated as a town.
He had a daughter Elsie ; she had passed her youth and wore out her middle life doing rough work on the farm. The fences were straggling, and frail in many places, and her father's herd, and the neighbors', were wont to get together. Elsie had run after them built fence, and felt extremely wicked so many times, that finally she gave vent to her feelings in the following sarcastic words : " I am dog, devil, and fence."
I left Elsie and her discontent and plunged into the near alder swamp through which the brook ran in a tiny stream.
Occasionally a cat-bird gave her shrill scream over my head. . Ground sparrows peeped at me with a side-long glance as I parted my way through the low growing branches.. . Ere long I came to another division. Warren's; brook runs in a northerly direction. Twombly's brook (as it is here called) runs nearly west.
