File:A book of New England legends and folk lore in prose and poetry. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill (1884) (14742933106).jpg

Identifier: bookofnewengland00drakrich (find matches)
Title: A book of New England legends and folk lore in prose and poetry. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill
Year: 1884 (1880s)
Authors: Drake, Samuel Adams, 1833-1905
Subjects: Legends -- New England
Publisher: Boston, Roberts Brothers
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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the blackened bowlders, and fly hissing into theair like the dust rising from its ruins. As if to confirm thistheory, nothing grows on the southeast point, while on thenortheast grasses flourish and daisies nod to the cool sea-breeze.We say again. Boars Head is a puzzle. It is indeed an inspiring sight to see the surf breaking oneach side of you in a continuous line of foam from the mouthof the Merrimack to Little Boars Head, and then, turning tow-ards the ofiing, see the dark cluster of the Isles of Shoals lyinglow on the still more extended expanse of the ocean. JONATHAN MOULTON AND THE DEVIL. (From The Heart of the AMiite Mountains.) THE legendary hero of Hampton is General JonathanMoulton. He is no fictitious personage, but one of ver-itable flesh and blood, who, having acquired considerable celebrityin the old wars, lives on through the medium of a local legend. The General, says the legend, encountered a far more notableadversary than Abenaki warriors or conjurers, among whom he
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324 NEW-ENGLAND LEGENDS. had lived, aud whom it was the passion of his life to exter-minate. In an evil hour his yearning to amass wealth suddenly ledhim to declare that he would sell his soul for the possession ofunbounded riches. Think of the Devil, and he is at your elbow.The fatal declaration was no sooner made — the General wassitting alone by his fireside — than a shower of sparks camedown the chimney, out of which stepped a man dressed fromtop to toe in black velvet. The astonished Moulton noticedthat the strangers ruffles were not even smutted. Your servant. General! quoth the stranger, suavely. Butlet us make haste, if you please, for I am expected at the Gov-ernors in a quarter of an hour, he added, picking up a livecoal with his thumb and forefinger, and consulting his watchwith it. The Generals wits began to desert him. Portsmouth wasfive leagues — long ones at that — from Hampton House, and hisstrange visitor talked, with the utmost unconcern, of gettingthere in f

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