"A sup of New England's Aire is better than a whole draught of Old England's Ale." HE charming belt of country around Boston is full of in Tterest to Americans. It is diversified with every feature that can make a landscape attractive. Town clasps hands with town until the girdle is complete where Nahant and Nantasket sit with their feet in the Atlantic. The whole region may be compared to one vast park, where nature has wrought in savage grandeur what art has subdued into a series of delightful pictures. No one portion of the zone may claim precedence. There is the same shifting panorama visible from every rugged height that never fails to delight soul and sense. We can liken these suburban abodes to nothing but a string of precious gems flung around the neck of Old Boston. Nor is this all. Whoever cherishes the memory of brave deeds and who does not? -- will find here the arena in which the colonial stripling suddenly sprang erect, and planted a blow full in the front of the old insular gladiator, a blow that made him reel with the shock to his very centre. It was here the |