"DISTRICT SCHOOL, NO. 2,"

and its worshipful character is otherwise indicated by the
presence of the master, a venerable looking puppet in cocked
hat and knee-breeches, in the doorway, and sundry china children
playing rather stiffly about the stone steps.

Ascending by a steep, rocky path, one arrives at a rather
pretentious looking wind-mill, which spreads its wide white arms
protectingly over the cottages below. Barrels of flour and sacks
of meal, well filled and plentiful in number, attest its thriving
business, and the miller himself, in a properly dusty coat, looks
about him with contented air. At the foot of the hill upon which
the mill is perched, are several dwellings--all showing signs of
more or less prosperous life, with the exception of one,
which affords the orthodox "haunted house" belonging to every
well-regulated village. The ruined walls of this old mansion,
with lichen cropping out from every crevice; the unhinged doors
and broken windows; the ladder rotting as it leans against the
moss-grown roof, the broken well-sweep and deserted barn, offer
an aspect of desolation and decay which should prove sufficient
bait to tempt any ghost of moderate demands.

In direct contrast to the gloom which surrounds this now empty
and forsaken home, one observes, in a shady grove surmounting a
ridge of hills which rise somewhat steeply here from the roadway,
a party of "pic-nickers" gaily attired and disporting themselves
after the time-honored manner of such merry-makers; swinging,
dancing, or, better still, strolling off arm in arm, in search of