Part 20 (1/2)

”Oh, yes,” cried Nora, ”there's _one_ thing that I remember, the story of Agnes Surriage. I've read the novel.”

”Well, Agnes used to live here,” said Miss South, ”at least in this neighborhood. No trace of the old mansion remains, although when built it was the finest house in town, three stories high, with inlaid floor, carved mantels, and other decorations that even to-day we should probably admire. Many other houses in this neighborhood are old, and I have a friend who can tell almost their precise age by studying the style of the bricks and mortar, but the only one of great historic interest is that little old wooden house,” and she pointed to one on the western side of the square.

”It does not look so very old,” said Julia.

”No, because it has been clapboarded after the modern fas.h.i.+on. Aside from that, however, you can see that its overhanging upper story makes it unlike any house built in modern times. Here Paul Revere lived for many years, and his birthplace is near-by. I hope that in time it may be bought by some patriotic person, to be preserved as long as it will stand. At present it is a tenement house, and liable to destruction by fire at any moment through the carelessness of its occupants. Now we must hurry on, but I wish that you could come to the square some time on a holiday, when it is a centre for all the picturesque Italians of whom there are so many now in this part of the city.”

As they turned about under Miss South's guidance, she pointed out other old houses--(one with the date 1724 above it) almost tumbling down,--and she told them a little about the habits of the people living in the narrow streets and alleys which they pa.s.sed.

”On the whole these people are much better off than ever they were in their own country. They have political liberty, and their children have the chance of acquiring a good education. In that school over there they are taught to speak English, and they do learn it in a very thorough manner. The older people are slow in learning our language, and even slower in acquiring our habits. They are so anxious to make money that they live crowded together in a very unwholesome fas.h.i.+on. Sometimes a whole family and one or two boarders will live in the same small room, and the children will go without proper food or clothes while the father is saving money enough to invest in a house or shop which he wishes to own.”

”Cannot this be prevented?” asked Julia.

”Only by teaching young and old better habits. That is the effort which all the charity workers in this neighborhood make. The kindergartens, and industrial schools, and all the other organizations are gradually accomplis.h.i.+ng this. But it is hard work. I should like to tell you more about their difficulties, but now I suppose we must pay more attention to history.”

While Miss South had been talking she had led them up a narrow street which in snowy weather must have lived up to its name ”Snowhill street.”

At the top of the hill after a turn or two they came upon an old burying-ground.

”Copp's Hill,” said Julia.

”Why of course,” responded Nora.

”I brought you here to-day,” said Miss South, ”because I knew that the gates would be open. One cannot always get in during the winter months except by special arrangement. But in summer the old graveyard is like a park, and the little children from all parts of the North End come here to play, and mothers with their babies are thankful enough for a seat under the trees where they can feel the cool breeze from the harbor.”

”How quaint it is!” said Julia, looking down the narrow street, just as they entered the gate. ”Why there is Christ Church, isn't it?”

”How did you know it?” asked Nora, ”I thought that you had never been here before.”

”Well, I haven't, but there are ever so many photographs, showing just this view. What is that queer little house, Miss South?”

”I am glad that you asked, although I should not have forgotten to point it out. That is a real Revolutionary relic, General Gage's headquarters during part of the British occupation; it is one of the most interesting houses left standing.”

Now turning their steps away from the quaint, hilly street, they were within the enclosure of the graveyard. It would take long to tell all that they saw. There was the old gravestone which the British had made a target, and marked with their bullets. There were some stones with nothing but the name and date, and neither very legible, others with rough carvings of cherubs' heads, or the angel of death, while some of the vaults at the side had heraldic carvings, the arms of old Tory families.

Miss South told them of the days when this graveyard had been neglected, and when the gravestones had toppled over, and had been carried off by any one who wished them. Some had been found by the present custodian of the ground in use as covers for drains, others as chimney tops, and some in old cellars and bas.e.m.e.nts. There were famous names on some of the stones, and strange verses on others.

Julia copied an inscription or two, such as,

”A sister of Sarah Lucas lyeth here, Whom I did love most dear; And now her soul hath took its flight, And bid her spightful foes good-night.”

and this

”Death with his dart hath pierced my heart, While I was in my prime; When this you see grieve not for me 'Twas G.o.d's appointed time.”

She had heard before of the Mather tomb, and looked with great interest on the brown slab enclosed with an iron railing, under which rested the noted Puritan preacher.

Yet while Julia took interest in the stones and inscriptions, Nora was better pleased with the lovely view of the water to be seen from the summit.

”It was there in the channel,” said Miss South, ”that the men-of-war lay when Paul Revere started out on that wonderful ride, and not so far from the spot where the receiving s.h.i.+p 'Wabash' now lies at the Navy Yard, the British landed in Charlestown on their way to Bunker Hill.”