Baker Farm
I also visited many a nameless little rill in the woods, as interesting to me for
the
time as the Amazon or Mississippi, now running under ground with subdued murmurings,
now sparkling
& tinkling along the surface, and anon spreading into a swamp. Sometimes
Sometimes
Sometimes
Sometimes
I rambled to pine groves, standing like temples, or like fleets at sea, full-rigged,
with wavy boughs,
and rippling with light, so soft and green and shady that the Druids would have forsaken
their oaks to worship
in them; or to the cedar
woods
wood
wood
wood
beyond Flint’s Pond, where the trees, covered with hoary blue berries, spiring higher
and higher,
seemed
are
are
are
are
fit to stand before Valhalla, and the creeping juniper
covered
covers
covers
covers
covers
the ground with wreaths full of fruit; or to swamps where the usnea
lichens
lichen
lichen
lichen
lichen
hangs in festoons from the
spruce
black-spruce
black-spruce
black-spruce
trees, and
toadstools, round-tables of the swamp gods cover all the ground, and more beautiful
fungi adorn the stumps, like butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles, covering the
dead wood like
barnacles,
and
where the swamp-pink and dog-wood grow and the red alder-berry glows like eyes of imps,
and the
waxwork grooves and crushes the hardest woods in its folds, and the wild-holly berries
make the beholder
forget his home with their beauty; where the owl hides her young and nods at noon-day, and the
raccoon has his perch, and mushrooms, round-tables of the swamp gods cover all the
ground, and beautiful
fungi adorn the stumps, like butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles, covering the
dead wood like
barnacles
toad-stools, round tables of the swamp gods, cover the ground, and more beautiful
fungi adorn the
stumps, like butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles; where the swamp-pink and dogwood
grow, the red
alder-berry glows like eyes of imps, the waxwork grooves and crushes the hardest woods
in its folds, and
the wild-holly berries make the beholder forget his home with their beauty,
toad-stools, round tables of the swamp gods, cover the ground, and more beautiful
fungi adorn the
stumps, like butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles; where the swamp-pink and dogwood
grow, the red
alder-berry glows like eyes of imps, the waxwork grooves and crushes the hardest woods
in its folds, and
the wild-holly berries make the beholder forget his home with their beauty,
toad-stools, round tables of the swamp gods, cover the ground, and more beautiful
fungi adorn the
stumps, like butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles; where the swamp-pink and dogwood
grow, the red
alder-berry glows like eyes of imps, the waxwork grooves and crushes the hardest woods
in its folds, and
the wild-holly berries make the beholder forget his home with their beauty,
and
you are
he is
he is
he is
dazzled and tempted by nameless
other
other
other
other
wild forbidden fruits, too fair for mortal taste. Instead of calling on some scholar,
I paid many a
visit to particular trees, of kinds which are rare in this neighborhood, standing
far away in the middle of
some pasture, or in the
depth
depths
depths
depths
depths
of a wood or swamp, or on a hill-top; such as the black- birch, of which we have
some handsome
specimens two feet in diameter; its cousin, the yellow-birch, with its loose golden
vest,
perfumed like the first;
perfumed like the first;
perfumed like the first;
perfumed like the first;
the beech, which has so neat a bole and beautifully lichen-painted, perfect in all
its details, of
which, excepting scattered specimens, I
know of
know
know
know
but one small grove of sizable trees left in
Concord
the township,
the township,
the township,
supposed by some to have been planted by the pigeons that
once came to the beds near by, for they bear no fruit here
were once baited with beechnuts near by
were once baited with beechnuts near by;
were once baited with beechnuts near by;
were once baited with beechnuts near by;
it is worth the while to
see how the silver grain sparkles
sparkle
see the silver grain sparkle
see the silver grain sparkle
see the silver grain sparkle
when you split this wood; the bass; the hornbeam; the
Celtis
occidentalis
, or false elm, of which we have but one
full-grown
well-grown
well-grown;
well-grown;
well-grown;
some taller mast of a pine, a shingle tree, or a more perfect hemlock than usual,
standing like a
pagoda in the
midst of the
midst of the
midst of the
midst of the
woods; and many others I could mention. These were the shrines I visited both summer
and winter.
Once I found myself xxxxx by a rainbow— stood
Once it chanced that I stood
Once it chanced that I stood
Once it chanced that I stood
in the very abutment of
its
a rainbow’s
a rainbow’s
a rainbow’s
a rainbow’s
arch, which filled the lower stratum of the atmosphere, tinging the grass and leaves
around, and dazzling
my eyes
me as if I saw
looked
me as if I looked
me as if I looked
me as if I looked
through colored
stones. In which like a dolphin for a short while I lived
& moved & had my being
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
It was a lake of rainbow light, in which, for a short while, I lived like a dolphin.
If it had lasted
longer it might have tinged my employments and life.
As I walked on
the railroad causeway, I used to wonder at the halo of light around my shadow, and
fancied
fancied
would fain fancy
would fain fancy
would fain fancy
would fain fancy
myself one of the elect.
until I heard of another who had observed the same phenomenon
which is indeed a constant one affecting himself—but even he thought
until I heard of another who had observed the same phenomenon, which indeed is a
constant one, affecting himself— but even he thought
One who visited me declared
One who visited me declared
One who visited me declared
One who visited me declared
that the shadows of some Irishmen before him had no halo
before
about
about
about
about
about
them, that it was only natives that were so distinguished.
Benvenuto Cellini
relates
relates
tells us
tells us
tells us
in his memoirs, that,
after a certain terrible dream or vision which he had
after a certain terrible dream or vision which he had
after a certain terrible dream or vision which he had
during his confinement in the
castle of St. Angelo
,
in Rome he had a terrible dream or vision in which certain events
were communicated to him which afterward came to pass. “From the very moment that
I beheld the
phenomenon,” says he, “there appeared, (strange to relate!) a resplendent light over
my head, which has
displayed itself conspicuously to all that I have thought proper to show it to, but
those were very few.
This shining light is to be seen in the morning over my shadow till two o’clock in
the afternoon, and it
appears to the greatest advantage when the grass is moist with dew; it is likewise
visible in the
evening at sunset. This phenomenon I took notice of when I was at Paris, because
the air is exceedingly clear in that climate, so that I could distinguish it there
much plainer than in
Italy, where mists are much more frequent; but I can still see it even here,
and show it to others, though not to the same advantage as in France.”
In Rome he had a terrible dream or vision in which certain events
were communicated to him which afterward came to pass. “From the very moment that
I beheld the
phenomenon,” says he, “there appeared, (strange to relate!) a resplendent
a resplendent light appeared over the shadow of his head at morning and evening, whether
he was in
Italy or France, and it was particularly conspicuous
when the grass was moist with dew.
a resplendent light appeared over the shadow of his head at morning and evening, whether
he was in
Italy or France, and it was particularly conspicuous
when the grass was moist with dew.
a resplendent light appeared over the shadow of his head at morning and evening, whether
he was in
Italy or France, and it was particularly conspicuous
when the grass was moist with dew.
This was
no doubt
perhaps
probably
probably
probably
probably
probably
the same phenomenon
which I have described,
to which I have referred,
to which I have referred,
to which I have referred,
to which I have referred,
which is especially observed in the morning,
and even
though also
but also at other times, and even
but also at other times, and even
but also at other times, and even
but also at other times, and even
by moonlight.
It is quite common though it may not be
Though a constant one it is not
Though a constant one, it is not
Though a constant one, it is not
Though a constant one, it is not
Though a constant one, it is not
commonly noticed, and, in the case of an excitable imagination like Cellini’s, it
would be basis
enough for
his superstition—especially as
superstition. Beside
superstition. Beside
superstition. Beside
superstition. Beside
he tells us that he showed it to very few.
But are they not indeed distinguished who are conscious that they are regarded at
all?
But are they not indeed distinguished who are conscious that they are regarded at
all?
But are they not indeed distinguished who are conscious that they are regarded at
all?
But are they not indeed distinguished who are conscious that they are regarded at
all?
I set out one afternoon to go a-fishing to Fair-Haven, through the woods, to eke out
my
scanty fare of vegetables. My way led through Pleasant Meadow, an adjunct of the Baker
Farm, that retreat of
which a poet has since sung, beginning, —
“Thy entry is a pleasant field,
Which some mossy fruit trees yield
By gliding musquash undertook,
I thought of living there before I went to Walden. I “hooked” the apples, leaped
the brook, and scared
the musquash and the trout. It was one of those afternoons which seem indefinitely
long before one, in which
many events may happen, a large portion of our natural life, though it was already
half spent when I started.
By the way there came up a shower, which compelled me to stand half an hour under
a pine, piling boughs over
my head, and wearing my handkerchief for a shed; and when at length I had made one
cast over the
pickerel-weed, standing up to my middle in water, I found myself suddenly in the shadow
of a cloud, and the
thunder began to rumble with such emphasis that I could do no more than listen to
it. The gods must be proud,
thought I, with such forked flashes to rout a poor unarmed fisherman. So I made haste
for shelter to the
nearest hut, which stood half a mile from any road, but so much the nearer to the
pond, and had long been
uninhabited:—
“And here a poet builded,
For behold a trivial cabin
That to destruction steers.”
So the Muse fables. But therein, as I found, dwelt now John Field, an Irishman, and
his wife, and
several children, from the broad-faced boy who assisted his father at his work, and
now came running by his
side from the bog to escape the rain, to the wrinkled, sibyl-like, cone-headed infant
that sat upon its
father’s knee as in the palaces of nobles, and looked out from its home in the midst
of wet and hunger
inquisitively upon the stranger, with the privilege of infancy, not knowing but it
was the last of a noble
line, and the hope and cynosure of the world, instead of John Field’s poor starveling
brat. There we sat
together under that part of the roof which leaked the least, while it showered and
thundered without. I had
sat there many times of old before the ship was built that floated his family to America.
An honest,
hard-working, but shiftless man plainly was John Field; and his wife, she too was
brave to cook so many
successive dinners in the recesses of that lofty stove; with round greasy face and
bare breast, still thinking
to improve her condition one day; with the never absent mop in one hand, and yet no
effects of it visible any
where. The chickens, which had also taken shelter here from the rain, stalked about
the room like members of
the family, too humanized methought to roast well. They stood and looked in my eye
or pecked at my shoe
significantly. Meanwhile my host told me his story, how hard he worked “bogging” for
a neighboring farmer,
turning up a meadow with a spade or bog hoe at the rate of ten dollars an acre and
the use of the land with
manure for one year, and his little broad-faced son worked cheerfully at his father’s
side the while, not
knowing how poor a bargain the latter had made. I tried to help him with my experience,
telling him that he
was one of my nearest neighbors, and that I too, who came a-fishing here, and looked
like a loafer, was
getting my living like himself; that I lived in a tight, light, and clean house, which
hardly cost more than
the annual rent of such a ruin as his commonly amounts to; and how, if he chose, he
might in a month or two
build himself a palace of his own; that I did not use tea, nor coffee, nor butter,
nor milk, nor fresh meat,
and so did not have to work to get them; again, as I did not work hard, I did not
have to eat hard, and it
cost me but a trifle for my food; but as he began with tea, and coffee, and butter,
and milk, and beef, he had
to work hard to pay for them, and when he had worked hard he had to eat hard again
to repair the waste of his
system, — and so it was as broad as it was long, indeed it was broader than it was
long, for he was
discontented and wasted his life into the bargain; and yet he had rated it as a gain
in coming to America,
that here you could get tea, and coffee, and meat every day. But the only true America
is that country where
you are at liberty to pursue such a mode of life as may enable you to do without these,
and where the state
does not endeavor to compel you to sustain the slavery and war and other superfluous
expenses which directly
or indirectly result from the use of such things. For I purposely talked to him as
if he were a philosopher,
or desired to be one. I should be glad if all the meadows on the earth were left in
a wild state, if that were
the consequence of men’s beginning to redeem themselves. A man will not need to study
history to find out what
is best for his own culture. But alas! the culture of an Irishman is an enterprise
to be undertaken with a
sort of moral bog hoe. I told him, that as he worked so hard at bogging, he required
thick boots and stout
clothing, which yet were soon soiled and worn out, but I wore light shoes and thin
clothing, which cost not
half so much, though he might think that I was dressed like a gentleman (which, however,
was not the case,)
and in an hour or two, without labor, but as a recreation, I could, if I wished, catch
as many fish as I
should want for two days, or earn enough money to support me a week. If he and his
family would live simply,
they might all go a-huckleberrying in the summer for their amusement. John heaved
a sigh at this, and his wife
stared with arms a-kimbo, and both appeared to be wondering if they had capital enough
to begin such a course
with, or arithmetic enough to carry it through. It was sailing by dead reckoning to
them, and they saw not
clearly how to make their port so; therefore I suppose they still take life bravely,
after their fashion, face
to face, giving it tooth and nail, not having skill to split its massive columns with
any fine entering wedge,
and rout it in detail;—thinking to deal with it roughly, as one should handle a thistle.
But they fight at an
overwhelming disadvantage,—living, John Field, alas! without arithmetic, and failing
so.
“Do you ever fish?” I asked. “Oh yes, I catch a mess now and then when I am lying
by;
good perch I catch.” “What’s your bait?” “I catch shiners with fishworms, and bait
the perch with them.”
“You’d better go now, John,” said his wife with glistening and hopeful face; but John
demurred.
The shower was now over, and a rainbow above the eastern woods promised a fair evening;
so
I took my departure. When I had got without I asked for a drink, hoping to get a sight
of the well bottom, to
complete my survey of the premises; but there, alas! are
shallow
shallows and
shallows and
shallows and
shallows and
shallows and
shallows and
shallows and
quicksands, and rope broken
withal,
withal,
withal,
withal,
withal,
withal,
withal,
and bucket irrecoverable. Meanwhile the right culinary vessel was selected, water
was seemingly
distilled,
and at length, after
and after
and after
and after
and after
and after
and after
and after
consultation and long delay passed out to the thirsty one,—not yet suffered to cool,
not yet to settle.
Such gruel sustains life here, I thought; so, shutting my eyes, and excluding the
motes by a
skillful
skillfully directed
skillfully directed
skillfully directed
skillfully directed
skillfully directed
skillfully directed
skillfully directed
under-current, I drank to genuine hospitality the heartiest draught I could. I am
not squeamish in such
cases when manners are concerned.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
n
Note: A: Baker Farm 6 appears as follows. (R. Clapper)
My haste
to catch pickerel wading in retired meadows in slughs and bog holes, in forlorn &
savage places
seemed for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school & college but as I ran
down the hill to the pond—with the rain-bow over my shoulder—and some slight tinkling
sounds borne to my
ear through the cleansed air—from I know not what quarter my Genius said—grow wild according to thy
nature like these ferns & brakes which endeavor not to become English hay. Let the
thunder
rumble in thy own tongue—what if it brings ruin to farmers’ crops in season that is
not its errand to
thee. Take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts & sheds & I said to
myself—Why not live always a rude and frontier life—full of adventures and hard work—learn
much—travel
much—though it be only through these woods & fields! There is no other country than
this—here is
the field and the man.—The daily boundaries of life are expanded & dispersed and I
see in what
field I stand. Roam far and wide—grasp at life and conquer it. Learn much and live.
You are really
free—stay till late in the night—be unwise and daring. See many men far & near in
their fields
& cottages before the sun sets—though as if many more were to be seen—Rest not every
night in
villages nor in the same place. The noblest life is continuous and unintermitting
without pauses or
waste.
As I was leaving the Irishman’s roof after the rain, bending my steps again to the
pond,
my haste to catch pickerel, wading in retired meadows, in sloughs and bog-holes, in
forlorn and savage
places, appeared for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to school and college;
but as I ran down
the hill toward the reddening west, with the rainbow over my shoulder, and some faint
tinkling sounds
borne to my ear through the cleansed air, from I know not what quarter, my Good Genius
seemed to say,—Go
fish and hunt far and wide day by day,—farther and wider,—and rest thee by many brooks
and hearth-sides
without misgiving. Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth. Rise free from care
before the dawn, and
seek adventures. Let the noon find thee by other lakes, and the night overtake thee
every where at home.
There are no larger fields than these, no worthier games than may here be played.
Grow wild according to
thy nature, like these sedges and brakes, which will never become English hay. Let
the thunder rumble;
what if it threaten ruin to farmers’ crops? that is not its errand to thee. Take shelter
under the cloud,
while they flee to carts and sheds. Let not to get a living be thy trade, but thy
sport. Enjoy the land,
but own it not. Through want of enterprise and faith men are where they are, buying
and selling, and
spending their lives like serfs.
“Landscape where the richest element
Is a little sunshine innocent.” * *
On thy rail-fenced lea.” * *
“Debate with no man hast thou,
With questions art never perplexed,
As tame at the first sight as now,
In thy plain russet gabardine dressed.”
Children of the Holy Dove,
And Guy Faux of the state,
From the tough rafters of the trees!”
Men come
meanly
tamely
tamely
tamely
tamely
tamely
tamely
tamely
home at night only from the next field or street, where their household echoes haunt,
and their life
pines because it breathes its own breath over again;
But we should go beyond our shadow at sunrise, and
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We
should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should
come home from far, from adventures, and
perils—from enterprises
perils,
perils,
perils,
perils,
perils,
perils,
perils,
and discoveries every day,
with new experience and character.
with new experience and character.
with new experience and character.
with new experience and character.
with new experience and character.
with new experience and character.
with new experience and character.
Before I had reached the pond some fresh impulse had brought out John Field, with
altered mind, letting go “bogging” ere this sunset. But he, poor man, disturbed only
a couple of fins while I
was catching a fair string, and he said it was his luck; but when we changed seats
in the boat luck changed
seats too. Poor John Field!— I trust he does not read this, unless he will improve
by it,—thinking to live by
some derivative old-country mode in this primitive new country,—to catch perch with
shiners. It is good bait
sometimes, I allow. With his horizon all his own, yet he a poor man, born to be poor,
with his inherited Irish
poverty or poor life, his Adam’s grandmother and boggy ways, not to rise in this world,
he nor his posterity,
till their wading webbed bog-trotting feet get
talaria
to their heels.
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