Deephaven by Sarah Orne Jewett — Read

The Deephaven people used to say sometimes complacently, that certain / things or certain people were "as dull as East Parish. " Kate and I grew / curious to see that part of the world which was considered duller than / Deephaven itself; and as upon inquiry we found that it was not out of / reach, one day we went there.

It was like Deephaven, only on a smaller scale. The village -- though it / is a question whether that is not an exaggerated term to apply -- had / evidently seen better days. It was on the bank of a river, and perhaps / half a mile from the sea. There were a few old buildings there, some / with mossy roofs and a great deal of yellow lichen on the sides of the / walls next the sea; a few newer houses, belonging to fishermen; some / dilapidated fish-houses; and a row of fish-flakes. Every house seemed to / have a lane of its own, and all faced different ways except two / fish-houses, which stood amiably side by side. There was a church, which / we had been told was the oldest in the region. Through the windows we / saw the high pulpit and sounding-board, and finally found the keys at a / house near by; so we went in and looked around at our leisure. A rusty / foot-stove stood in one of the old square pews, and in the gallery there / was a majestic bass-viol with all its strings snapped but the largest, / which gave out a doleful sound when we touched it.