overhanging and interlaced boughs of the trees, festooned with a drapery
even more graceful and dazzling than springtime gives them. The numerous
elms and maples which shade the principal thoroughfares are not the
result of chance, but the ample reward of the loving care that is taken
to preserve the trees. There is a society in Portsmouth devoted to
arboriculture. It is not unusual there for persons to leave legacies
to be expended in setting out shade and ornamental trees along some
favorite walk. Richards Avenue, a long, unbuilt thoroughfare leading
from Middle Street to the South Burying-Ground, perpetuates the name of
a citizen who gave the labor of his own hands to the beautifying of that
windswept and barren road the cemetery. This fondness and care for trees
seems to be a matter of heredity. So far back as 1660 the selectmen
instituted a fine of five shillings for the cutting of timber or any
other wood from off the town common, excepting under special conditions.

In the business section of the town trees are few. The chief business
streets are Congress and Market. Market Street is the stronghold of
the dry-goods shops. There are seasons, I suppose, when these shops are
crowded, but I have never happened to be in Portsmouth at the time. I
seldom pass through the narrow cobble-paved street without wondering
where the customers are that must keep all these flourishing little
establishments going. Congress Street--a more elegant thoroughfare
than Market--is the Nevski Prospekt of Portsmouth. Among the prominent
buildings is the Athenaeum, containing a reading-room and library.
From the high roof of this building the stroller will do well to take
a glance at the surrounding country. He will naturally turn seaward
for the more picturesque aspects. If the day is clear, he will see the
famous Isle of Shoals, lying nine miles away--Appledore, Smutty-Nose,
Star Island, White Island, etc.; there are nine of them in all. On
Appledore is Laighton's Hotel, and near it the summer cottage of Celia