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sewer runs along one portion of its bed, the Spot pond water pipes another.
At Mystic lake the new boulevard has taken possession of the old bed. At points, the old tow-path is now a part of the highway, at another it survives as a cow-path or woodland road.
At one point it marks the course of the defunct Mystic Valley railroad.
At Wilmington, the stone sides of a lock have become the walls of a dwelling-house cellar, and where once the merry shout of the boatmen was heard bringing the upcountry supplies to the city, the rumble and whistle of its successor, the railroad train, thunders past on its hurried journey.
Steam at last drove the canal-boat from the field, and about fifty years ago the canal gave up business and disappeared into the darkness of the past, to be forever forgotten except in name.
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