The Town Stands Between Two Hills, The
Suburbs Or Outskirts Running Up On To Each Of Them.
The one
looking out toward the sea is called Mountjoy, though the obstinate
Americans will write it Munjoy on their maps.
From thence the view
out to the harbor and beyond the harbor to the islands is, I may
not say unequaled, or I shall be guilty of running into
superlatives myself, but it is in its way equal to anything I have
seen. Perhaps it is more like Cork harbor, as seen from certain
heights over Passage, than anything else I can remember; but
Portland harbor, though equally landlocked, is larger; and then
from Portland harbor there is, as it were, a river outlet running
through delicious islands, most unalluring to the navigator, but
delicious to the eyes of an uncommercial traveler. There are in
all four outlets to the sea, one of which appears to have been made
expressly for the Great Eastern. Then there is the hill looking
inward. If it has a name, I forget it. The view from this hill is
also over the water on each side, and, though not so extensive, is
perhaps as pleasing as the other.
The ways of the people seemed to be quiet, smooth, orderly, and
republican. There is nothing to drink in Portland, of course; for,
thanks to Mr. Neal Dow, the Father Matthew of the State of Maine,
the Maine liquor law is still in force in that State. There is
nothing to drink, I should say, in such orderly houses as that I
selected. "People do drink some in the town, they say," said my
hostess to me, "and liquor is to be got. But I never venture to
sell any. An ill-natured person might turn on me; and where should
I be then?" I did not press her, and she was good enough to put a
bottle of porter at my right hand at dinner, for which I observed
she made no charge. "But they advertise beer in the shop windows,"
I said to a man who was driving me - "Scotch ale and bitter beer. A
man can get drunk on them." "Waal, yes. If he goes to work hard,
and drinks a bucketful," said the driver, "perhaps he may." From
which and other things I gathered that the men of Maine drank
pottle deep before Mr. Neal Dow brought his exertions to a
successful termination.
The Maine liquor law still stands in Maine, and is the law of the
land throughout New England; but it is not actually put in force in
the other States. By this law no man may retail wine, spirits, or,
in truth, beer, except with a special license, which is given only
to those who are presumed to sell them as medicines. A man may
have what he likes in his own cellar for his own use - such, at
least, is the actual working of the law - but may not obtain it at
hotels and public houses.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 31 of 277
Words from 15484 to 15989
of 143277
