These essays—thumbnail sketches of Cape Cod—should not be taken as a serious attempt to describe the Cape or to delineate its people. They merely express a perennial enthusiasm for this summer holiday land, to-day the playground of thousands of Americans, three hundred years ago the first “land of the free and home of the brave.” Acknowledgments are here given to the Atlantic Monthly for permission to include “A By-Product of Conservation” and “Scallops,” to The Outlook for the same courtesy for

Is it not strange that people who dwell in the same city block from October to May, enjoying with mutual satisfaction the life which touches them equally, should from May to October show such varying opinions that argument is futile? These people who have wintered so happily together may be placed in three classes—those who claim for the State of Maine the exclusive right to the title of “God’s Own Country,” those who think of the North Shore and Paradise as synonymous, and those other fortunate

Is there a reader who has not at one time or another gloated over the terrors, the thrills, and the mysteries which, in fiction, invariably lie hidden in an unoccupied house? When one stops to think of it nearly all the literature of roguery, as so clearly set forth in former days by Wilkie Collins, Gaboriau, down to Conan Doyle and Mary Roberts Rinehart, possesses as its most important stage-setting an untenanted mansion. It may be one of those familiar villas generally located somewhere near H

Surprising as it may seem, the clam, at least under his own name, does not appear in the Encyclopædia Britannica. And yet the clam is proverbial, metaphorical, and substantial, so substantial, in fact, that individuals of uncertain digestion have been rendered distinctly unhappy after a hearty encounter. But what is more surprising to the average person, and especially to the novice in clamming, is where all the clams come from for the unending clam-bakes, clam-chowders, and the various concocti

The torrent of conservation surged over our community in war-time with a mighty roar, carrying with it all thought of flowers and lawns, and making chaos of our cherished plans for a summer garden. With a velocity which only social enterprise could initiate, New England became a market garden from Eastport to Greenwich. Conservation developed back yards and vacant lots into gardens, and bank clerks into farmers, enthusiastic at the prospect, and innocent of the coming torments which weeds and pe

In the dim days of a decade ago—a generation might well have passed, for time is measured by the march of events rather than the procession of years—I remember yearning for the possession of an automobile. It mattered not what make, or shape or size or year. I was oblivious to the merits of six cylinders as opposed to four. I laughed at the enthusiast who reckoned upon the length of wheel-base as deciding his comfort or the question of demountable rims as governing his decision as to which make

Although on the surface Cape Cod seems to offer a haven of refuge to that much overworked appendage to the modern man, the pocket-book, there are dotted here and there upon the highways and byways many comparatively innocent pitfalls. To a close student of these danger spots, they may be grouped under the heading “Tea-Rooms, Arts and Crafts Stores, and Antique Shops.” I know of no greater relief than to escape from town and come to the Cape. Once there, the daily routine of office, the absence o

Slang is both the curse and the delight of the English language, and that form of slang which our British friends term “Americanisms,” and which we have now largely adopted as our national mode of communication, is not confined to the youth of to-day by any means. In the home, in business, and of course in sport, slang has found its way and has spread like the weeds in the garden of the over-enthusiastic commuter. I remember hearing a clergyman of national reputation and advancing years say a sh

To the majority of people Cape Cod spells sea breezes, a tang of salt in the air, scrub oaks, tall pines, stretches of sand, and a large appetite. To the few who know the Cape from more intimate acquaintance there is added to this picture a swelling country densely wooded in sections and spotted with ponds. It is a source of never-ending wonder how these ponds exist in a country where the soil is so porous that a few minutes after a shower there is no trace of the rain. In almost every instance

Before you pass judgment upon any man or woman of your acquaintance, ask him or her to a picnic. Then if you are not ready to form a decision, they will probably have made up their minds about you. A picnic, so the Dictionary has it, is an entertainment in a grove, an ominous and hazardous place at best for a good time, and one to be avoided except by sentimental couples, and therefore the Dictionary may be considered narrow-minded in naming the locality. Furthermore, its advice is rarely follow

Long before the Old Colony Railroad thought of running a line to Cape Cod—although that in itself was not so very long ago, well within the memory of man—there was one charm of the Cape which is fast vanishing and entirely unknown to the casual visitor and unappreciated by the perennial summer residents. In those days there was a host of rugged, sturdy men, intelligent, courageous, upright, and keen-minded. They were the Cape captains, the men who grew up among the sand-dunes, to the rote of the

In my youthful days I often wondered at the regularity with which elderly people would go out to drive day after day, sitting in the same seat in the same carriage, behind the same horses, driven by the same coachman along the same roads. It seemed to me a lamentable waste of time. And now I have more or less (less as the years advance) the same feeling toward those couples whose chief relaxation is a spin along the state roads of their district in a well-appointed limousine, for I belong to tha

If I have thought of it at all, I have thought of myself as a sociable cuss. Not that I like sociables; I hate them, and that is probably why they have gone out of fashion. What to my mind defines sociability is the quality of enjoying and giving enjoyment to others, singly, in pairs, or in groups; and in present days sociability is generally put to the test either at dinners or at week-end parties, for these are the principal points of contact between friends. Latterly, however, my social bent

Sport, according to our highest authorities, is “that which diverts and makes mirth,” and from this general interpretation the term has been applied to games, and to the various forms of hunting and fishing commonly known, but I have yet to hear the word applied to the pursuit of the scallop. And yet, scalloping more nearly approaches the original meaning of sport than most of the games which are commonly classed under this heading, for not only does the scallop divert and provoke the mirth of h

And now comes the fall of the year with days gorgeous in coloring, from the clear crystal blue of the sky reflected in sparkling waters to the flame-tinted stretches of woodland watched over by tall pines and guarded by stately cedars. The sandy roads glisten in the distances, marking off sections of the Cape country as a huge picture puzzle. The atmosphere seems purged of all imperfection, giving to every town and hamlet a spotless appearance bright with late flowers and fresh fruit awaiting th