Italian women gossiping and sewing. Italian shops lined the way. It was interesting and novel to Henry. He had never before been in an Italian section of an American city. But he had little time to look about. He hurried on until he came to a little house so unlike any other building in the block that he did not need his guide-book to tell him it was the home of Paul Revere. It was a curious brown house, with tiny diamond-shaped panes in the little leaded windows. The roof was low, and the second story seemed to be hardly more than half a story in height. Henry saw that he could gain admission by the payment of a small fee, but he thought he scarcely had time to examine the house.
So he went on around a corner or two, and presently he found himself standing before the old North Church. It was still a sightly structure, with its shapely spire rising above its plain brick walls. An iron fence rose in front of it. On the wall was a bronze tablet calling attention to the fact that here were hung the lanterns that guided Paul Revere.
When Henry had examined the old church from every possible angle, he turned away and headed for the Iroquois. At least, he turned away from the church. Such curious rambling streets he had never seen. He knew well enough that he would have been hopelessly lost without