Friendship Village

Friendship Village

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Friendship Village

Friendship Village

Read FREE!

Excerpt

Friendship Village

It is as if Friendship Village were to say: —

“There is no help for it. a telephone line, antique oak chairs, kitchen cabinets, a new doctor, and the like are upon us. But we shall be mediaeval directly — we and our improvements. Really, we are so now, if you know how to look.”

And are we not so ? We are one long street, rambling from sun to sun, inheriting traits of the parent country roads which we unite. and we are cross streets, members of the same family, properly imitative, proving our ancestorship in a primeval genius for trees, or bursting out in inexplicable weaknesses of Court-House, Engine-House, Town Hall, and Telephone Office. Ultimately our stock dwindles out in a slaughter-yard and a few detached houses of milkmen. the cemetery is delicately put behind us, under a hill. There is nothing mediaeval in all this, one would say. But then see how we wear our rue : — . . .

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