The inn was to be distinguished from the surrounding buildings, by its
superior size, an open horse-shed, and a sort of protruding air, with
which it thrust itself on the line of the street, as if to invite the
traveller to enter. A sign swung on a gallows-looking post, that, in
consequence of frosty nights and warm days, had already deviated from the
perpendicular. It bore a conceit that, at the first glance, might have
gladdened the heart of a naturalist, with the belief that he had made the
discovery of some unknown bird. The artist, however, had sufficiently
provided against the consequences of so embarrassing a blunder, by
considerately writing beneath the offspring of his pencil, "This is the
sign of the Whip-Poor-Will;" a name, that the most unlettered traveller,
in those regions, would be likely to know was vulgarly given to the
Wish-Ton-Wish, or the American night-hawk.
But few relics of the forest remained immediately around the hamlet. The
trees had long been felled, and sufficient time had elapsed to remove most
of the vestiges of their former existence.
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