Morning journal and courier., 1882-08-14
Concord Evenings.


To the sojourner in the classic town of
Concord the evenings are an ever new pas
toral New England idyl, which prefigure
themselves unique and picturesque memory
in life. The genuine Concordian betakes
himself with his family to boat on the riv-
er, every citizen keeping his boat as a matter
of course. The river is the thoroughfare of
the evening It is the Bots de Boloene, the
Central Park, the Bellevue avenue of Con-
cord. Here from their floating crafts neigh
bors greet one another they sail side by
side pass and repass on the river. Over
70 boats belonging to families are kept be-
tween the old and the now stone bridge, a
distance of less than two miles. There are
few afternoons in which picnic parties, or an
excursion made for guests, do not enjoy
row up the river. The current is still as
sluggish as when Hawthorne said of it that
he swan across it every day for two weeks
before he could tell which way the current
ran Ascending the Assabet from the point
known as Egg Rock, one comes to the very
haunts of the Maids and the Dryads, the
spot made classic by Hawthorns's picturing in
the 'Moses from an Old Manse" Here we
find more of that fairy gold" with which
Prof. Harris says our poets have sown all
this region. The river here is closed in on
every side like lake, and the perfect mir
roring of the trees and foliage, every vine
and twig and leaf reflected with startling dis
tinctness, makes the spot one never to be
forgotten.
The summer sessions of the school of phil
osophy introduce another element of interest
in Concord days. The school is by no means
an exotic, but fourishes as if indigenous to
the spot and strikes its roots in Concord soil
would be impossible in almost any other
locality. Concord, guiltless of street cars,
cabs, Herdlcs, ETC., has two means of con-
veyance that serve the quiet demands of the
village. The one public carriage is apparent
ly devoted to occasions of state It manages
to be at the Lowell and Fitchburg stations at
one and the same time when the trains arrive,
as they have habit of doing simultaneously.
1t carries everybody to all imaginable points
at once, and does the impossible in accommo-
dating the resident and the stranger within
the gates dozen times day. But the closed
carriage, with its we'll kept white horses, is a
more conventional affair, and you can see its
prototype on every street corner in Boston.
1t is The barge which is worthy to be can
nonized in poetic ecstasy, and which is as
much part of the scenery of Concord as is
Concord river. The barge is what rem
ders an evening picturesque in Concord
About half an hour before the time for the
starts on it's rounds. Down the long, shaded
| street, where the over, arched elms meet
above and through whose branches one
| catches the golden glory of the sunset, rat
| ties the barge with sonorous ring that an
nounces itself half mile away. Wherever
| tAoho ID PoSSiolo PassoHBoI IL otopS. Luz
mount, it's imposing steps, and are off in the
fresh breeze blowing from the river. You
| discover that you have forgotten your gloves
| or your stylograph, and at once the accommo-
dating barge makes a circuit and you run in
| for the needed articles. Neighbors exchange
kindly words from their piazzas with others
| in the barge. From a hammock swinging q
fair hand waves its greeting Pausing at Mr..
| Alcott's the driver learns that he has walked
| up to the postofice, where he will meet the
universal vehicle From house to house the
seats of the old barge are filled. Peripatetic
philosophy is in vogue, and the philosopher
walking alone, wrapped in the high serenity
of his thought, or the social philosophers
walking together, are seen. At half past g.
the hour for closing, the distant echoes OF
the barge up the valley are heard, and mer
ry party crowd the vehicle to overlooking
when the conversation is as lively as the
driving, and one talks to his unintroducet
neighbor on topics other than divine philoso
ply, it may be. One by one the company
are left, each at hts own vine and fig tree
the last echo of the barge dies away ant
moonlight and silence brood over Concord.