SPINKS. "And he is really crazy-insane ?” HILL.. "Yes, but harmless; rather fond of the society of the ladies at that time-that's all. Now, I am going out; if anything happens, first fasten the door till I returnthat's all, and keep it secret." Of course, as soon as Hill had left, she shared the secret with Mrs. Mandrill, then the help--cautioning them all-then the neighbors; then followed what the reader has been made acquainted with. The result of this joke was a desire of the family, communicated by Miss Spinks with many apologies, that the Boston gentlemen would go over to the tavern and lodge, as they really couldn't think of sleeping with a crazy man in the house. So Mr. Hill and his friend adjourned to the Taunton hotel. During the evening, Hill ascertained that the Rev. Stephen Hull, in whose garret he began play-acting, had been located some time in the town of Carlisle, and was the beloved pastor of a clever flock of Yankee parishioners in that ancient and honorable town. From old Gad Brickford he learned the story of one Abner Tanner, a fisherman who started in a fishing smack laden with produce for Boston, viz: herrings, cabbage, onions, &c., but, in a gale, was blown off the coast, and kept sailing until he was brought up in the Mediterranean, and sold his cargo to the Turks at a great profit. The veritable adventures of this Yankee Sinbad were the subject of a drama, and the public have laughed often at Mr. Hill's rich delineation of a real Taunton fresh-water sailor-by name Abner Tanner, in the drama of "The Yankee in Tripoli." It was decided between Mr. Hill and his friend, that they should leave Taunton early in the morning for Boston and Carlisle. CHAPTER XI. "Blow winds-crack your cheeks." A TRIP TO CARLISLE-A STAY AT LEXINGTON-THUNDER STORM-CHARACTERS OF THE VILLAGE INN-THE OLD REVOLUTIONER AND HIS STORY. MR. HILL and his companion arrived in Boston about sun-set, and leaving the bays and carriage with the proprietor, a serious-looking, honest-going black horse was put into a chaise, and in this vehicle the two character hunters started for Carlisle. They had scarcely crossed the old Cambridge bridge when the clouds and rising wind gave tokens of a shower. It did not rain, however, until the parties reached Lexington, where they found comfortable quarters in a hotel near the battle ground, and ordered supper, determined to remain until the storm was over. The spirit of the age has changed the appearance of the bar-room of a country tavern since that time. In this devoted room of the hostelrie was congregated some of the characters of the village. There seems to be a set of similar characters in all towns. If one has observed, he will find that representatives of the peculiarities of certain classes are to be seen everywhere. Almost every village has its club-foot boy, girl, man or woman. So will the observer notice everywhere some hump-backed man, woman, or child, broke his or her back; or the nurse let the cripple fall when he or she was an infant. Respectable persons rarely fall down stairs; their calamities usually result from the carelessness of the nurse. Almost every village has its victim to Fourth of July salutes, fired from rusty cannon, in the shape of a man who has lost an arm or an eye. In some localities will be found persons suffering from the casualties of rock blasting; in other places may be seen those who have been caught in machinery and run over by railroad trains. Very often the bar-room of the village tavern is the resort of the sufferers, and their stories serve to excite the sympathy and charity of the traveller from whom they receive change, which they too often invest in toddy and segars. It is a noted fact that cripples, from congenial deformity, bear the impress of their loss upon their face; and the expression of the countenance of persons having club-feet will be found very much alike. This similitude of likeness will be noticed in humpbacks, who, for the most part, are shrewd, smart, and have a peculiarity of voice. I dare say the physiologist can explain all this. The subject is not, however, introduced here for the purpose of philosophical discussion, or to solve a problem in physiology. In the Lexington bar-room was a hump-backed boy some eighteen years of age, a man who had lost his arm in firing a Fourth of July salute, and a boy with that species of club-foot, called talipes equinus by scientific men. But it is not to be supposed the reader cares to know any more than he can understand about the dif ferent kinds, or what the complications are, of these affections of bones and tendons which result in this clubfoot. Modern surgery cures it, may be added in parenthesis, for the benefit of any club-footed reader who is not aware of the fact. · There were others in the bar-room;-the red-eyed disciple of cider-drinking was there; also the seedy storekeeper of other years, who had seen hard times. He once enjoyed a reputation of being a smart man, but now was engaged in no business, and existed upon an allowance sent to him by a daughter well married in Boston. If half muddled, he was constantly talking of "My darter and her rich husband." Sitting in an old arm-chair, half asleep, was an elderly person-one of a class fast leaving the scene. He was a revolutionary pensioner. He had once been tall, and strongly formed in his youth, and was a man of account in the town of Lexington-famous, as being the first spot which blood was shed by the troops of England in the attempt to drive away the revolutionists of the state. upon Near to where this remnant of revolution days was sitting, a monument marks the scene of blood. What a contrast in the youth and age of this old patriot! His head was nearly bald, the skin white as ivory, and around his ears hung thin locks of white hair. He was bent down, wrinkled, and trembling, as he leaned upon his long stick. The rain had driven under cover all the frequenters of the tavern. Hill and his friend, too, came in, after having ordered supper, intending to occupy the time while the cook was engaged in the duties of her office, with |