At the Pentagöet, “activities” consist of sitting on the wraparound front porch on cane-seated rockers watching the everyday goings-on along Main Street. This quirky, yellow-and-green (ca. 1894) inn with the prominent turret is tastefully, sturdily built. The lobby features hardwood floors, oval braided rugs, and a woodstove; it’s all comfortable without being prissy, professional without being chilly. Most units sport king-size beds with heavy, ornate headboards and lacy white coverlets—some have claw-foot bathtubs and/or fireplaces, and one even includes a balcony with flowers. Rooms on the upper two floors of the main house are furnished eclectically in a mix of antiques and collectibles, as are five units in the adjacent Perkins Street building (an austere, Federal-era house), where the recently revamped bathrooms are all done up in marble. Quite a collection of ornate wooden headboards in this place. The pub (charmingly decorated with the globetrotter bric-a-brac of a Victorian-era chevalier) and the offerings in the dining room are both excellent.