There were no letter-carriers in those days, and everybody had to come to the office to get or send letters.
I recall, even now, with a feeling of irritation, the deliberation of the postmaster in handling the mails, and how he rebuked the impatience of the waiting people with a gleam of his glittering eye.
The low brick block which curved from Main street round into Ship street is much the same as it was then, though I think not one of the old-time tenants remains.
Most of them are probably dead.
The old railroad station has changed little.
The City Hall maintains the same respectable and dignified air that it did when I first knew it. At that time it was too large for the legitimate uses of the town, and the end toward the square was occupied as a clothing store.
I went there once to purchase a pair of pantaloons, and I shall never forget the interested air of the proprietor, or it may have been a clerk, who inquired of what tint I would like them.
One thing which has materially changed the aspect of the square is the disappearance of the old town pump.
Added to its picturesqueness, it was in those days an absolute necessity.
Here came the tired horses to drink, and in dry seasons the inexhaustible supply furnished the neighbors with water on washing days.
A tin dipper without a chain testified at once to the thirst as well as to the honesty of the inhabitants.
With the introduction of the city water it, of course, lost much of its practical value, and the coming of the electrical railway system made its removal a necessity.
On Forest street, leading to Pine Hill
, there were but two or three houses on the left.
On the right were half a dozen, with the Universalist church.
And speaking of churches reminds me.
I was never particularly attracted toward any one church, but I was always fond of good preaching, and so used to distribute my Sunday visits among the places where I was pretty sure to hear it. Medford
, in those