But her life-work, as she viewed it at the end, was
in her two books in behalf of the Indians.
* * * * *
HINGHAM.
By Francis H. Lincoln.
[Illustration: THE PUBLIC LIBRARY BUILDING, BURNT IN 1879.]
The impression left upon the mind of the traveller who has seen Hingham
only from the railroad train would be one of backyards, a mill-pond, and
woods; but to him who approaches it towards the close of a pleasant June
day by steamboat, when the tide is in, there is spread out a lovely
view. As the boat comes near the landing-place, islands and green hills,
beautiful trees and fields, form a complete circle around him. The
picture is one he will not forget. This pleasant impression will grow
stronger if he drives by almost any of the streets leading from the
harbor, for about five miles, to the southern limit of the town. Should
he take the main street he will be charmed by the wealth of stately elms
and other shade-trees, which in many places form a complete arch over
his head, and by the neat dwellings, for the most part of modest
pretensions, some old and some new, almost every one with well-kept
grounds all betokening thrift and suggesting a well-to-do community.
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