These ancient ladies have coats of arms upon their walls,
hereditary damasks among their scanty wardrobes, store of
domestic traditions in their brains, and a whole Court Guide of
high-sounding names at their fingers' ends. They can tell you of
the supposed sister of an English queen, who married an American
officer and dwelt in Oldport; of the Scotch Lady Janet, who
eloped with her tutor, and here lived in poverty, paying her
washerwoman with costly lace from her trunks; of the Oldport dame
who escaped from France at the opening of the Revolution, was
captured by pirates on her voyage to America, then retaken by a
privateer and carried into Boston, where she took refuge in John
Hancock's house. They can describe to you the Malbone Gardens,
and, as the night wanes and the embers fade, can give the tale of
the Phantom of Rough Point. Gliding farther and farther into the
past, they revert to the brilliant historic period of Oldport,
the successive English and French occupations during our
Revolution,and show you gallant inscriptions in honor of their
grandmothers, written on the window-panes by the diamond rings of
the foreign officers.

The newer strata of Oldport society are formed chiefly by
importation, and have the one advantage of a variety of origin
which puts provincialism out of the question. The mild winter
climate and the supposed cheapness of living draw scattered
families from the various Atlantic cities; and, coming from such
different sources, these visitors leave some exclusiveness
behind. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, are doubtless
good things to have in one's house, but are cumbrous to travel
with. Meeting here on central ground, partial aristocracies tend
to neutralize each other. A Boston family comes, bristling with