mounted by a profusion of gilt balls, and painted the walls with gaudy colors. In front of the house he erected rows of columns fifteen feet or more high, and on each placed an image carved in wood. There were fully forty of the effigies, and they included Indian chiefs, generals, philosophers, politicians, and statesmen, with now and then a goddess of Fame or Liberty, and a number of lions. The persons represented had their names painted on their respective pedestals, but whenever the owner of this wooden museum chanced to take the notion he changed the names and had them painted over. One effigy was of Dexter himself. It was inscribed, "I AM THE GREATEST MAN IN THE EAST."

A famous commercial exploit of Dexter's was the sending of a lot of warming-pans to the West Indies in one of his ships. They were about the last articles that would be needed in that hot climate, but the captain took off the covers, fitted these covers with handles and so transformed them into skimmers. The pan parts he called ladles, and he sold both ladles and skimmers to the sugar manufacturers at a great profit.

Perhaps the oddest thing Dexter ever did was to publish a pamphlet entitled "A Pickle for the Knowing Ones." As a whole it was a jumble of nonsense, and it was entirely without punctuation. He gave away thousands of copies. The lack of punctuation was criticised, and in a second edition he placed a page

at the end devoted solely to punctuation marks with which the public was requested to "pepper and salt' the text to suit themselves.

Several noteworthy places on the coast south of Boston remain to be mentioned. First comes Quincy, where a leading spirit among the pioneer settlers was a man named Morton. He conducted a profitable trade with the Indians, but he and his fellows devoted their gains to rioting and drunkenness. They called their village Merrymount, and set up a May-pole eighty feet high about which they drank and frisked "like so many furies." It was learned at Plymouth that they were selling muskets to the Indians, and Captain Miles Standish came and dispersed the rioters, and Morton was sent to England.

Nearly all the southwestern part of the town is a mass of granite rock that rises six hundred feet above

John Quincy Adams. The simple farmhouses in which they were born are not a stone's throw apart.

When the elder Adams was a boy he had to study Latin grammar, and he found it so dull that he went to his father and told him he did not like study, and wanted some other employment.

"Well, John," the father said, "then you may try ditching."

He set the boy to work in a meadow back of the house, and at first the change seemed delightful. But by night John would have liked to quit the task. Pride, however, made him continue at it another day. Then he informed. his father that he could bear the abominable ditching no longer, and that he would go back to the Latin grammar.

The great Fore River ship-building works are at Quincy. They make steam yachts, steel schooners, and various vessels large and small for naval use.

Beyond Quincy is Hingham, which has a very interesting church erected in 1680. This is the oldest

house of worship in the United States now in use. One interesting item in its history is the fact that the parish once appointed two men to keep its porch from being needlessly encumbered with women on the Sabbath. The building, because of its peculiar structure, is called "The Old Ship." It has a central belfry, which, in addition to holding the bell, served as a lookout station. The bell rope dangles down to the floor in the centre aisle of the church.

Eight miles southeast of the entrance to Boston Harbor is the most famous of New England's lighthouses. It is a mile and a half from land, on Minot's Ledge, a position of great peril to incoming vessels when a northerly gale is blowing. The rock on which

it stands is thirty feet broad. Only for a short time at low tide does the top of the rock come into view. The first lighthouse on the ledge was a dwelling supported at a height of fifty-five feet on nine solid iron shafts that were ten inches in diameter. This stood only two years. In the early spring of 1851, during one of the heaviest gales known on the coast, great quantities of ice adhered to the supports, and it was completely wrecked. The keeper and his two assistants lost their lives.

The present structure is a tapering round tower of dovetailed granite blocks that are made still more secure by being bound together with heavy wroughtiron pins. The stonework extends up eighty-eight feet, and is solid for nearly half that height. Above the solid portion are the apartments of the keeper, consisting of five rooms, separated from each other by iron floors. At the very top is the light. Two years were required to level the foundation rock, working from April 1 to September 15, and then only when the tide served. The first stone was laid on July 9, 1857, and just four stones were placed in position that season. In 1858 six courses were laid, and not until two years later was the structure completed.

As we go on down the coast we come to Greenbush, where was born, in 1785, Samuel Woodworth, author of "The Old Oaken Bucket." There can be seen his boyhood home with its ancient well-sweep. The poem was written in 1817 when he and his family were living