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Updated: June 4, 2025
"And the green-fly, and the moorish-fly!" cried Benson, snatching them up with transport; "and, chief, the sad-yellow-fly, in which the fish delight in June; the sad-yellow-fly, made with the buzzard's wings, bound with black braked hemp, and the shell-fly, for the middle of July, made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the herle of a peacock's tail, famous for creating excellent sport."
He studied by the fire-light and practiced writing with a pen made from a buzzard's quill dipped in ink made from brier roots. He practiced writing on the subjects of Temperance, Government, and Cruelty to Animals. The unkindness so often common to those frontier folks shocked his sensitive soul.
It at once enlisted his sympathy both for the work and for the man. Within the week he offered to Agassiz, as a site for the school, the island of Penikese, in Buzzard's Bay, with the buildings upon it, consisting of a furnished dwelling-house and barn. Scarcely was this gift accepted than he added to it an endowment of 50,000 dollars for the equipment of the school.
This ugly way of Mart's had isolated them from all village intercourse early in their life on Cedar Hill. Like a buzzard's nest their home hung over the village on the unfriendly sides of the bleak slope. Visitors were few and always reluctant, even strangers, for the village told weird tales of Mart Brenner and his kin.
But I think at that," he broke off with a merry smile, "that the Golden Eagle II is going to prove more than the Buzzard's match." "Did you go over the whole course this afternoon?" asked his father. "Yes, and the Eagle handled like a race-horse," replied Frank; "if she makes a like performance on the day of the race I think we have the cup as good as won."
Unc' Billy grinned, but at the same time he looked a little foolish as he said: "That's right, Mistah Buzzard, that's right! Nothing ever does bother me." And all the time he was wondering however he should ask for Ol' Mistah Buzzard's advice and not let him know that something really was bothering him a great deal.
He then coasted south to Cape Cod. Continuing south he entered Buzzard's Bay, where he landed on Cuttyhunk Island. Here, on a little island in a lake an island within an island he built a fort round which the colony was expected to grow. But supplies began to run out. There was bad blood over the proper division of what remained.
We took the one o'clock train for Boston, remained there over night, and left on the early morning "accommodation" so called, I think, because it accommodates the train hands for Cape Cod. As we neared Buzzard's Bay my spirits, which had been at topnotch, began to sink. When the sand dunes of Barnstable harbor hove in sight they sank lower and lower.
Proceeding yet further south, between the islands off the coast, he finally entered the inclosed sound of Buzzard's Bay, and landed on the island of Cuttyhunk. Gosnold was a prudent as well as an adventurous man, and he was resolved to take all possible precautions against being surprised by the Indians.
When I was a small boy I spent my summers at the quaint old fishing-village of Mattapoisett, on Buzzard's Bay. Next door to the house we occupied stood a low-roofed, unpretentious dwelling, white as an old-time clipper ship, with bright green blinds. I can still catch the fragrance of the lilacs by the gate.
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