He wanted to know if we'd got this year's taxes on the Whittaker place.
And, if we hadn't, what was we goin' to do about it? Bailey, between you
and me and the mizzenmast, Heman Atkins wants to get ahold of that place
the worst way."

"He does? He DOES? For the land sakes, ain't he got property enough
already? Ain't a--a palace like that enough for one man, without wantin'
to buy a rattletrap like THAT?"

The first "that" was emphasized by a brandished but reverent left hand;
the second by a derisively pointing right. The two friends had reached
the crest of the long slope leading up from the townhall. On one side
of the road stretched the imposing frontage of the "Atkins estate," with
its iron fence and stone posts; on the other slouched the weed-grown,
tumble-down desolation of the "Cy Whittaker place." The contrast was
that of opulent prosperity and poverty-stricken neglect.

If our village boasted one of those horseless juggernauts, such as are
used to carry sightseers in Boston from the old North Church to the
Public Library and other points of interest--that is, if there was a
"seeing Bayport" car, it is from this hill that its occupants would be
given their finest view of the village and its surroundings. As Captain
Josiah Dimick always says: "Bayport is all north and south, like a
codfish line. It puts me in mind of Seth Higgins's oldest boy. He was so
tall and thin that when they bought a suit of clothes for him, they used
to take reefs in the sides of the jacket and use the cloth to piece onto
the bottoms of the trousers' legs." What Captain Joe means is that
the houses in the village are all built beside three roads running
longitudinally. There is the "main road" and the "upper road"--or
"Woodchuck Lane," just as you prefer--and the "lower road," otherwise