Abbé Raynal Writes Most Poetically, Although Not Absolutely In Rhyme, Of This Gentle Brotherhood, "Where Every Misfortune Was Relieved Before It Could Be Felt, Without Ostentation On The One Hand And Without Meanness On The Other.

Whatever slight differences arose from time to time among them were amicably adjusted by their elders."

Our driver says "étwelles" for étoiles, "fret" for froid, "si" for oui, etc.; the dancing crests of the waves he calls "chapeaux blancs", which is similar to our appellation, and also speaks of "un bon coop de thé", showing that an English word is occasionally adopted, though hardly recognizable in their peculiar phraseology.

One pleasant acquaintance, Dr. R, who lived here several years after he "came out" from England, tells us that the mackerouse, a wild duck, is found here; and, as it subsists upon fish, the people are allowed to eat that bird on Fridays. He also says that the pigs wade out into the mud at low tide to root for clams; while the crows, following in their tracks, steal the coveted shell fish from under the very noses of the swine. Of the remarkably long nasal appendages of this peculiar porcine species he adds, "They do say that they'll root under a fence and steal potatoes from the third row!"

In this locality we hear Yarmouth spoken of as if it were a port equal to New York in importance, and so it doubtless seems to these simple un-traveled people. In reality it is a prosperous maritime town owning one hundred and thirty thousand tons of shipping, and is a mildly picturesque place when the tide is high.

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