Whatisacourseofhistoryorphilosophy,orpoetry,nomatterhowwellselected,orthebestsociety,orthemostadmirableroutineoflife,comparedwiththedisciplineoflookingalwaysatwhatistobeseen?
ThereweretimeswhenIcouldnotaffordtosacrificethebloomofthepresentmomenttoanywork,whetheroftheheadorhands.Iloveabroadmargintomylife.
Sometimes,inasummermorning,havingtakenmyaccustomedbath,Isatinmysunnydoorwayfromsunrisetillnoon,raptinarevery,amidstthepinesandhickoriesandsumachs,inundisturbedsolitudeandstillness,whilethebirdssingaroundorflittednoiselessthroughthehouse,untilbythesunfallinginatmywestwindow,orthenoiseofsometraveller'swagononthedistanthighway,Iwasremindedofthelapseoftime.
Thedayadvancedasiftolightsomeworkofmine;itwasmorning,andlo,nowitisevening,andnothingmemorableisaccomplished.
Asthesparrowhaditstrill,sittingonthehickorybeforemydoor,sohadImychuckleorsuppressedwarblewhichhemighthearoutofmynest.
Mydayswerenotdaysoftheweek,bearingthestampofanyheathendeity,norweretheymincedintohoursandfrettedbythetickingofaclock;forIlivedlikethePuriIndians,ofwhomitissaidthat"foryesterday,today,andtomorrowtheyhaveonlyoneword,andtheyexpressthevarietyofmeaningbypointingbackwardforyesterdayforwardfortomorrow,andoverheadforthepassingday."
Thiswassheeridlenesstomyfellow–townsmen,nodoubt;butifthebirdsandflowershadtriedmebytheirstandard,Ishouldnothavebeenfoundwanting.
Ihadthisadvantage,atleast,inmymodeoflife,overthosewhowereobligedtolookabroadforamusement,tosocietyandthetheatre,thatmylifeitselfwasbecomemyamusementandneverceasedtobenovel.
Ifwewerealways,indeed,gettingourliving,andregulatingourlivesaccordingtothelastandbestmodewehadlearned,weshouldneverbetroubledwithennui.
Followyourgeniuscloselyenough,anditwillnotfailtoshowyouafreshprospecteveryhour.Houseworkwasapleasantpastime.
Whenmyfloorwasdirty,Iroseearly,and,settingallmyfurnitureoutofdoorsonthegrass,bedandbedsteadmakingbutonebudget,dashedwateronthefloor,andsprinkledwhitesandfromthepondonit,andthenwithabroomscrubbeditcleanandwhite;andbythetimethevillagershadbrokentheirfastthemorningsunhaddriedmyhousesufficientlytoallowmetomoveinagain,andmymeditationswerealmostuninterupted.
Itwaspleasanttoseemywholehouseholdeffectsoutonthegrass,makingalittlepilelikeagypsy'spack,andmythree–leggedtable,fromwhichIdidnotremovethebooksandpenandink,standingamidthepinesandhickories.
Itwasworththewhiletoseethesunshineonthesethings,andhearthefreewindblowonthem;somuchmoreinterestingmostfamiliarobjectslookoutofdoorsthaninthehouse.
Abirdsitsonthenextbough,life–everlastinggrowsunderthetable,andblackberryvinesrunrounditslegs;pinecones,chestnutburs,andstrawberryleavesarestrewnabout.
Itlookedasifthiswasthewaytheseformscametobetransferredtoourfurniture,totables,chairs,andbedsteads—becausetheyoncestoodintheirmidst.
Myhousewasonthesideofahill,immediatelyontheedgeofthelargerwood,inthemidstofayoungforestofpitchpinesandhickories,andhalfadozenrodsfromthepond,towhichanarrowfootpathleddownthehill.
Inmyfrontyardgrewthestrawberry,blackberry,andlife–everlasting,johnswortandgoldenrod,shruboaksandsandcherry,blueberryandgroundnut.
NeartheendofMay,thesandcherry(Cerasuspumila)adornedthesidesofthepathwithitsdelicateflowersarrangedinumbelscylindricallyaboutitsshortstems,whichlast,inthefall,weigheddownwithgoodsizedandhandsomecherries,felloverinwreathslikeraysoneveryside.
Thesumach(Rhusglabra)grewluxuriantlyaboutthehouse,pushingupthroughtheembankmentwhichIhadmade,andgrowingfiveorsixfeetthefirstseason.
Thelargebuds,suddenlypushingoutlateinthespringfromdrystickswhichhadseemedtobedead,developedthemselvesasbymagicintogracefulgreenandtenderboughs,aninchindiameter;andsometimes,asIsatatmywindow,soheedlesslydidtheygrowandtaxtheirweakjoints,Iheardafreshandtenderboughsuddenlyfalllikeafantotheground,whentherewasnotabreathofairstirring,brokenoffbyitsownweight.
InAugust,thelargemassesofberries,which,wheninflower,hadattractedmanywildbees,graduallyassumedtheirbrightvelvetycrimsonhue,andbytheirweightagainbentdownandbrokethetenderlimbs.
AsIsitatmywindowthissummerafternoon,hawksarecirclingaboutmyclearing;thetantivyofwildpigeons,flyingbytwoandthreesathwartmyview,orperchingrestlessonthewhitepineboughsbehindmyhouse,givesavoicetotheair;afishhawkdimplestheglassysurfaceofthepondandbringsupafish;aminkstealsoutofthemarshbeforemydoorandseizesafrogbytheshore;thesedgeisbendingundertheweightofthereed–birdsflittinghitherandthither;andforthelasthalf–hourIhaveheardtherattleofrailroadcars,nowdyingawayandthenrevivinglikethebeatofapartridge,conveyingtravellersfromBostontothecountry.
ForIdidnotlivesooutoftheworldasthatboywho,asIhear,wasputouttoafarmerintheeastpartofthetown,buterelongranawayandcamehomeagain,quitedownattheheelandhomesick.
Hehadneverseensuchadullandout–of–the–wayplace;thefolkswereallgoneoff;why,youcouldn'tevenhearthewhistle!
Themenonthefreighttrains,whogooverthewholelengthoftheroad,bowtomeastoanoldacquaintance,theypassmesooften,andapparentlytheytakemeforanemployee;andsoIam.
Thewhistleofthelocomotivepenetratesmywoodssummerandwinter,soundinglikethescreamofahawksailingoversomefarmer'syard,informingmethatmanyrestlesscitymerchantsarearrivingwithinthecircleofthetown,oradventurouscountrytradersfromtheotherside.
Astheycomeunderonehorizon,theyshouttheirwarningtogetoffthetracktotheother,heardsometimesthroughthecirclesoftwotowns.
screamsthecountryman'swhistle;timberlikelongbattering–ramsgoingtwentymilesanhouragainstthecity'swalls,andchairsenoughtoseatallthewearyandheavy–ladenthatdwellwithinthem.
Upcomesthecotton,downgoesthewovencloth;upcomesthesilk,downgoesthewoollen;upcomethebooks,butdowngoesthewitthatwritesthem.
WhenImeettheenginewithitstrainofcarsmovingoffwithplanetarymotion—or,rather,likeacomet,forthebeholderknowsnotifwiththatvelocityandwiththatdirectionitwilleverrevisitthissystem,sinceitsorbitdoesnotlooklikeareturningcurve—withitssteamcloudlikeabannerstreamingbehindingoldenandsilverwreaths,likemanyadownycloudwhichIhaveseen,highintheheavens,unfoldingitsmassestothelight—asifthistravelingdemigod,thiscloud–compeller,woulderelongtakethesunsetskyfortheliveryofhistrain;whenIheartheironhorsemakethehillsechowithhissnortlikethunder,shakingtheearthwithhisfeet,andbreathingfireandsmokefromhisnostrils(whatkindofwingedhorseorfierydragontheywillputintothenewMythologyIdon'tknow),itseemsasiftheearthhadgotaracenowworthytoinhabitit.
Ifthecloudthathangsovertheengineweretheperspirationofheroicdeeds,orasbeneficentasthatwhichfloatsoverthefarmer'sfields,thentheelementsandNatureherselfwouldcheerfullyaccompanymenontheirerrandsandbetheirescort.
IwatchthepassageofthemorningcarswiththesamefeelingthatIdotherisingofthesun,whichishardlymoreregular.
Theirtrainofcloudsstretchingfarbehindandrisinghigherandhigher,goingtoheavenwhilethecarsaregoingtoBoston,concealsthesunforaminuteandcastsmydistantfieldintotheshade,acelestialtrainbesidewhichthepettytrainofcarswhichhugstheearthisbutthebarbofthespear.
Thestableroftheironhorsewasupearlythiswintermorningbythelightofthestarsamidthemountains,tofodderandharnesshissteed.
Ifthesnowliesdeep,theystraponhissnowshoes,and,withthegiantplow,plowafurrowfromthemountainstotheseaboard,inwhichthecars,likeafollowingdrill–barrow,sprinklealltherestlessmenandfloatingmerchandiseinthecountryforseed.
Alldaythefire–steedfliesoverthecountry,stoppingonlythathismastermayrest,andIamawakenedbyhistrampanddefiantsnortatmidnight,wheninsomeremotegleninthewoodshefrontstheelementsincasediniceandsnow;andhewillreachhisstallonlywiththemorningstar,tostartoncemoreonhistravelswithoutrestorslumber.
Orperchance,atevening,Ihearhiminhisstableblowingoffthesuperfluousenergyoftheday,thathemaycalmhisnervesandcoolhisliverandbrainforafewhoursofironslumber.
Farthroughunfrequentedwoodsontheconfinesoftowns,whereonceonlythehunterpenetratedbyday,inthedarkestnightdartthesebrightsaloonswithouttheknowledgeoftheirinhabitants;thismomentstoppingatsomebrilliantstation–houseintownorcity,whereasocialcrowdisgathered,thenextintheDismalSwamp,scaringtheowlandfox.
Theygoandcomewithsuchregularityandprecision,andtheirwhistlecanbeheardsofar,thatthefarmerssettheirclocksbythem,andthusonewell–conductedinstitutionregulatesawholecountry.
Ihavebeenastonishedatthemiraclesithaswrought;thatsomeofmyneighbors,who,Ishouldhaveprophesied,onceforall,wouldnevergettoBostonbysopromptaconveyance,areonhandwhenthebellrings.
Todothings"railroadfashion"isnowthebyword;anditisworththewhiletobewarnedsooftenandsosincerelybyanypowertogetoffitstrack.
Menareadvertisedthatatacertainhourandminutetheseboltswillbeshottowardparticularpointsofthecompass;yetitinterfereswithnoman'sbusiness,andthechildrengotoschoolontheothertrack.Welivethesteadierforit.
Iseethesemeneverydaygoabouttheirbusinesswithmoreorlesscourageandcontent,doingmoreeventhantheysuspect,andperchancebetteremployedthantheycouldhaveconsciouslydevised.
IamlessaffectedbytheirheroismwhostoodupforhalfanhourinthefrontlineatBuenaVista,thanbythesteadyandcheerfulvalorofthemenwhoinhabitthesnowplowfortheirwinterquarters;whohavenotmerelythethree–o'–clock–in–the–morningcourage,whichBonapartethoughtwastherarest,butwhosecouragedoesnotgotorestsoearly,whogotosleeponlywhenthestormsleepsorthesinewsoftheirironsteedarefrozen.
OnthismorningoftheGreatSnow,perchance,whichisstillragingandchillingmen'sblood,Ibearthemuffledtoneoftheirenginebellfromoutthefogbankoftheirchilledbreath,whichannouncesthatthecarsarecoming,withoutlongdelay,notwithstandingthevetoofaNewEnglandnortheastsnow–storm,andIbeholdtheplowmencoveredwithsnowandrime,theirheadspeering,abovethemould–boardwhichisturningdownotherthandaisiesandthenestsoffieldmice,likebowldersoftheSierraNevada,thatoccupyanoutsideplaceintheuniverse.
Itisverynaturalinitsmethodswithal,farmoresothanmanyfantasticenterprisesandsentimentalexperiments,andhenceitssingularsuccess.
Iamrefreshedandexpandedwhenthefreighttrainrattlespastme,andIsmellthestoreswhichgodispensingtheirodorsallthewayfromLongWharftoLakeChamplain,remindingmeofforeignparts,ofcoralreefs,andIndianoceans,andtropicalclimes,andtheextentoftheglobe.
Ifeelmorelikeacitizenoftheworldatthesightofthepalm–leafwhichwillcoversomanyflaxenNewEnglandheadsthenextsummer,theManillahempandcocoanuthusks,theoldjunk,gunnybags,scrapiron,andrustynails.
Thiscarloadoftornsailsismorelegibleandinterestingnowthaniftheyshouldbewroughtintopaperandprintedbooks.
HeregoeslumberfromtheMainewoods,whichdidnotgoouttoseainthelastfreshet,risenfourdollarsonthethousandbecauseofwhatdidgooutorwassplitup;pine,spruce,cedar—first,second,third,andfourthqualities,solatelyallofonequality,towaveoverthebear,andmoose,andcaribou.
Theseragsinbales,ofallhuesandqualities,thelowestconditiontowhichcottonandlinendescend,thefinalresultofdress—ofpatternswhicharenownolongercriedup,unlessitbeinMilwaukee,asthosesplendidarticles,English,French,orAmericanprints,ginghams,muslins,etc.,gatheredfromallquartersbothoffashionandpoverty,goingtobecomepaperofonecolororafewshadesonly,onwhich,forsooth,willbewrittentalesofreallife,highandlow,andfoundedonfact!
Thisclosedcarsmellsofsaltfish,thestrongNewEnglandandcommercialscent,remindingmeoftheGrandBanksandthefisheries.
Whohasnotseenasaltfish,thoroughlycuredforthisworld,sothatnothingcanspoilit,andputting,theperseveranceofthesaintstotheblush?
withwhichyoumaysweeporpavethestreets,andsplityourkindlings,andtheteamstershelterhimselfandhisladingagainstsun,wind,andrainbehindit—andthetrader,asaConcordtraderoncedid,hangitupbyhisdoorforasignwhenhecommencesbusiness,untilatlasthisoldestcustomercannottellsurelywhetheritbeanimal,vegetable,ormineral,andyetitshallbeaspureasasnowflake,andifitbeputintoapotandboiled,willcomeoutanexcellentdun–fishforaSaturday'sdinner.
NextSpanishhides,withthetailsstillpreservingtheirtwistandtheangleofelevationtheyhadwhentheoxenthatworethemwerecareeringoverthepampasoftheSpanishMain—atypeofallobstinacy,andevincinghowalmosthopelessandincurableareallconstitutionalvices.
Iconfess,thatpracticallyspeaking,whenIhavelearnedaman'srealdisposition,Ihavenohopesofchangingitforthebetterorworseinthisstateofexistence.
AstheOrientalssay,"Acur'stailmaybewarmed,andpressed,andboundroundwithligatures,andafteratwelveyears'laborbestoweduponit,stillitwillretainitsnaturalform."
Theonlyeffectualcureforsuchinveteraciesasthesetailsexhibitistomakeglueofthem,whichIbelieveiswhatisusuallydonewiththem,andthentheywillstayputandstick.
HereisahogsheadofmolassesorofbrandydirectedtoJohnSmith,Cuttingsville,Vermont,sometraderamongtheGreenMountains,whoimportsforthefarmersnearhisclearing,andnowperchancestandsoverhisbulkheadandthinksofthelastarrivalsonthecoast,howtheymayaffectthepriceforhim,tellinghiscustomersthismoment,ashehastoldthemtwentytimesbeforethismorning,thatheexpectssomebythenexttrainofprimequality.
Warnedbythewhizzingsound,Ilookupfrommybookandseesometallpine,hewnonfarnorthernhills,whichhaswingeditswayovertheGreenMountainsandtheConnecticut,shotlikeanarrowthroughthetownshipwithintenminutes,andscarceanothereyebeholdsit;going
Andhark!herecomesthecattle–trainbearingthecattleofathousandhills,sheepcots,stables,andcow–yardsintheair,droverswiththeirsticks,andshepherdboysinthemidstoftheirflocks,allbutthemountainpastures,whirledalonglikeleavesblownfromthemountainsbytheSeptembergales.
Whentheoldbell–wetherattheheadrattleshisbell,themountainsdoindeedskiplikeramsandthelittlehillslikelambs.
Acarloadofdrovers,too,inthemidst,onalevelwiththeirdrovesnow,theirvocationgone,butstillclingingtotheiruselesssticksastheirbadgeofoffice.Buttheirdogs,wherearethey?
MethinksIhearthembarkingbehindthePeterboro'Hills,orpantingupthewesternslopeoftheGreenMountains.Theywillnotbeinatthedeath.Theirvocation,too,isgone.
butIcrossitlikeacart–pathinthewoods.Iwillnothavemyeyesputoutandmyearsspoiledbyitssmokeandsteamandhissing.
Nowthatthecarsaregonebyandalltherestlessworldwiththem,andthefishesinthepondnolongerfeeltheirrumbling,Iammorealonethanever.
Fortherestofthelongafternoon,perhaps,mymeditationsareinterruptedonlybythefaintrattleofacarriageorteamalongthedistanthighway.
Sometimes,onSundays,Iheardthebells,theLincoln,Acton,Bedford,orConcordbell,whenthewindwasfavorable,afaint,sweet,and,asitwere,naturalmelody,worthimportingintothewilderness.
Atasufficientdistanceoverthewoodsthissoundacquiresacertainvibratoryhum,asifthepineneedlesinthehorizonwerethestringsofaharpwhichitswept.
Allsoundheardatthegreatestpossibledistanceproducesoneandthesameeffect,avibrationoftheuniversallyre,justastheinterveningatmospheremakesadistantridgeofearthinterestingtooureyesbytheazuretintitimpartstoit.
Therecametomeinthiscaseamelodywhichtheairhadstrained,andwhichhadconversedwitheveryleafandneedleofthewood,thatportionofthesoundwhichtheelementshadtakenupandmodulatedandechoedfromvaletovale.
Itisnotmerelyarepetitionofwhatwasworthrepeatinginthebell,butpartlythevoiceofthewood;thesametrivialwordsandnotessungbyawood–nymph.
Atevening,thedistantlowingofsomecowinthehorizonbeyondthewoodssoundedsweetandmelodious,andatfirstIwouldmistakeitforthevoicesofcertainminstrelsbywhomIwassometimesserenaded,whomightbestrayingoverhillanddale;butsoonIwasnotunpleasantlydisappointedwhenitwasprolongedintothecheapandnaturalmusicofthecow.
Idonotmeantobesatirical,buttoexpressmyappreciationofthoseyouths'singing,whenIstatethatIperceivedclearlythatitwasakintothemusicofthecow,andtheywereatlengthonearticulationofNature.
Regularlyathalf–pastseven,inonepartofthesummer,aftertheeveningtrainhadgoneby,thewhip–poor–willschantedtheirvespersforhalfanhour,sittingonastumpbymydoor,orupontheridge–poleofthehouse.
Theywouldbegintosingalmostwithasmuchprecisionasaclock,withinfiveminutesofaparticulartime,referredtothesettingofthesun,everyevening.
SometimesIheardfourorfiveatonceindifferentpartsofthewood,byaccidentoneabarbehindanother,andsonearmethatIdistinguishednotonlythecluckaftereachnote,butoftenthatsingularbuzzingsoundlikeaflyinaspider'sweb,onlyproportionallylouder.
Sometimesonewouldcircleroundandroundmeinthewoodsafewfeetdistantasiftetheredbyastring,whenprobablyIwasnearitseggs.
Itisnohonestandblunttu–whittu–whoofthepoets,but,withoutjesting,amostsolemngraveyardditty,themutualconsolationsofsuicideloversrememberingthepangsandthedelightsofsupernalloveintheinfernalgroves.
YetIlovetoheartheirwailing,theirdolefulresponses,trilledalongthewoodside;remindingmesometimesofmusicandsingingbirds;asifitwerethedarkandtearfulsideofmusic,theregretsandsighsthatwouldfainbesung.
Theyarethespirits,thelowspiritsandmelancholyforebodings,offallensoulsthatonceinhumanshapenight–walkedtheearthanddidthedeedsofdarkness,nowexpiatingtheirsinswiththeirwailinghymnsorthrenodiesinthesceneryoftheirtransgressions.
sighsoneonthissideofthepond,andcircleswiththerestlessnessofdespairtosomenewperchonthegrayoaks.Then—thatIneverhadbeenbor–r–r–r–n!
Iwasalsoserenadedbyahootingowl.NearathandyoucouldfancyitthemostmelancholysoundinNature,asifshemeantbythistostereotypeandmakepermanentinherchoirthedyingmoansofahumanbeing—somepoorweakrelicofmortalitywhohaslefthopebehind,andhowlslikeananimal,yetwithhumansobs,onenteringthedarkvalley,mademoreawfulbyacertaingurglingmelodiousness—IfindmyselfbeginningwiththelettersglwhenItrytoimitateit—expressiveofamindwhichhasreachedthegelatinous,mildewystageinthemortificationofallhealthyandcourageousthought.
Butnowoneanswersfromfarwoodsinastrainmadereallymelodiousbydistance—Hoohoohoo,hoorerhoo;andindeedforthemostpartitsuggestedonlypleasingassociations,whetherheardbydayornight,summerorwinter.
Itisasoundadmirablysuitedtoswampsandtwilightwoodswhichnodayillustrates,suggestingavastandundevelopednaturewhichmenhavenotrecognized.
Alldaythesunhasshoneonthesurfaceofsomesavageswamp,wherethesinglesprucestandshungwithusnealichens,andsmallhawkscirculateabove,andthechickadeelispsamidtheevergreens,andthepartridgeandrabbitskulkbeneath;butnowamoredismalandfittingdaydawns,andadifferentraceofcreaturesawakestoexpressthemeaningofNaturethere.
LateintheeveningIheardthedistantrumblingofwagonsoverbridges—asoundheardfartherthanalmostanyotheratnight—thebayingofdogs,andsometimesagainthelowingofsomedisconsolatecowinadistantbarn–yard.
Inthemean–whilealltheshorerangwiththetrumpofbullfrogs,thesturdyspiritsofancientwine–bibbersandwassailers,stillunrepentant,tryingtosingacatchintheirStygianlake—iftheWaldennymphswillpardonthecomparison,forthoughtherearealmostnoweeds,therearefrogsthere—whowouldfainkeepupthehilariousrulesoftheiroldfestaltables,thoughtheirvoiceshavewaxedhoarseandsolemnlygrave,mockingatmirth,andthewinehaslostitsflavor,andbecomeonlyliquortodistendtheirpaunches,andsweetintoxicationnevercomestodrownthememoryofthepast,butmeresaturationandwaterloggednessanddistention.
Themostaldermanic,withhischinuponaheart–leaf,whichservesforanapkintohisdroolingchaps,underthisnorthernshorequaffsadeepdraughtoftheoncescornedwater,andpassesroundthecupwiththeejaculationtr–r–r–oonk,tr–r–r—oonk,tr–r–r–oonk!
andstraightwaycomesoverthewaterfromsomedistantcovethesamepasswordrepeated,wherethenextinseniorityandgirthhasgulpeddowntohismark;andwhenthisobservancehasmadethecircuitoftheshores,thenejaculatesthemasterofceremonies,withsatisfaction,tr–r–r–oonk!
andeachinhisturnrepeatsthesamedowntotheleastdistended,leakiest,andflabbiestpaunched,thattherebenomistake;andthenthehowlgoesroundagainandagain,untilthesundispersesthemorningmist,andonlythepatriarchisnotunderthepond,butvainlybellowingtroonkfromtimetotime,andpausingforareply.
IamnotsurethatIeverheardthesoundofcock–crowingfrommyclearing,andIthoughtthatitmightbeworththewhiletokeepacockerelforhismusicmerely,asasingingbird.
ThenoteofthisoncewildIndianpheasantiscertainlythemostremarkableofanybird's,andiftheycouldbenaturalizedwithoutbeingdomesticated,itwouldsoonbecomethemostfamoussoundinourwoods,surpassingtheclangorofthegooseandthehootingoftheowl;andthenimaginethecacklingofthehenstofillthepauseswhentheirlords'clarionsrested!
Towalkinawintermorninginawoodwherethesebirdsabounded,theirnativewoods,andhearthewildcockerelscrowonthetrees,clearandshrillformilesovertheresoundingearth,drowningthefeeblernotesofotherbirds—thinkofit!Itwouldputnationsonthealert.
Whowouldnotbeearlytorise,andriseearlierandearliereverysuccessivedayofhislife,tillhebecameunspeakablyhealthy,wealthy,andwise?
EventhesailorontheAtlanticandPacificisawakenedbyhisvoice;butitsshrillsoundneverrousedmefrommyslumbers.
Ikeptneitherdog,cat,cow,pig,norhens,sothatyouwouldhavesaidtherewasadeficiencyofdomesticsounds;neitherthechurn,northespinning–wheel,noreventhesingingofthekettle,northehissingoftheurn,norchildrencrying,tocomfortone.
Notevenratsinthewall,fortheywerestarvedout,orratherwereneverbaitedin—onlysquirrelsontheroofandunderthefloor,awhip–poor–willontheridge–pole,abluejayscreamingbeneaththewindow,ahareorwoodchuckunderthehouse,ascreechowloracatowlbehindit,aflockofwildgeeseoralaughingloononthepond,andafoxtobarkinthenight.
Ayoungforestgrowingupunderyourmeadows,andwildsumachsandblackberryvinesbreakingthroughintoyourcellar;sturdypitchpinesrubbingandcreakingagainsttheshinglesforwantofroom,theirrootsreachingquiteunderthehouse.
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