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Thoreau, Henry David, 1817-1862

"A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers"


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Suns rose and set and found us still on the dank forest path
which meanders up the Pemigewasset, now more like an otter's or a
marten's trail, or where a beaver had dragged his trap, than
where the wheels of travel raise a dust; where towns begin to
serve as gores, only to hold the earth together. The wild pigeon
sat secure above our heads, high on the dead limbs of naval
pines, reduced to a robin's size. The very yards of our
hostelries inclined upon the skirts of mountains, and, as we
passed, we looked up at a steep angle at the stems of maples
waving in the clouds.
Far up in the country,--for we would be faithful to our
experience,--in Thornton, perhaps, we met a soldier lad in the
woods, going to muster in full regimentals, and holding the
middle of the road; deep in the forest, with shouldered musket
and military step, and thoughts of war and glory all to himself.
It was a sore trial to the youth, tougher than many a battle, to
get by us creditably and with soldierlike bearing.


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