Sometimes,    of y and gossip, and

        all my village friends, I rambled still fartward

        tually do yet more unfrequented parts of the

        to;to fresures ne; or, whe sun was

        setting, made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair

        ore for several days.    ts do not

        yield true flavor to to him who

        raises t.    t one o obtain it, yet

        feake t he flavor of huckleberries,

        ask tridge.    It is a vulgar error to suppose

        t you asted hem.    A

        on; t been knohere

        siial

        part of t is lost he

        market cart, and ternal

        Justice reigns, not one i ransported

        trys hills.

        Occasionally, after my he day, I joined

        some impatient panion whe pond since

        m, as silent and motionless as a duck or a floating leaf, and,

        after practising various kinds of philosophy, had cluded

        only, by time I arrived, t o t

        sect of obites.    t fisher

        and skilled in all kinds of , wo look upon

        my ed for the venience of fishermen; and

        I e his

        lines.    On a oget one end

        of t, and I at t not many ween

        us, for er years, but he occasionally

        h my philosophy.

        Our intercourse ogether one of unbroken harmony, far

        more pleasing to remember t had been carried on by speech.

        o une h, I used

        to raise triking he side of my

        boat, filling ting

        sound, stirring the keeper of a menagerie his wild

        beasts, until I elicited a growl from every wooded vale and

        hillside.

        In ly sat in t playing te,

        and sao have charmed, h around me,

        and travelling over ttom, wrewed

        .    Formerly I o this pond

        adventurously, from time to time, in dark summer nigh a

        panion, and, making a fire close to ters edge, which we

        t attracted t pouts h a bunch of worms

        strung on a t, threw

        to ts, which, ing

        doo th a loud hissing, and we were

        suddenly groping in total darkness.    tling a tune,

        ook our o ts of men again.    But now I had made my

        he shore.

        Sometimes, after staying in a village parlor till the family had

        all retired, I uro tly h a view

        to t days dinner, spent t fishing from a

        boat by moonlight, serenaded by owls and foxes, and hearing, from

        time to time, te of some unkno hand.

        to me -- anchored

        in forty feet of er, and ty or ty rods from the shore,

        surrounded sometimes by thousands of small perd shiners,

        dimpling tails in t, and

        unig by a long flaxen line erious noal fishes

        beloimes dragging

        sixty feet of line about ted in tle night

        breeze, no vibration along it, indicative

        of some life pro its extremity, of dull uain

        blundering purpose to make up its mind.    At length

        you slowly raise, pulling    squeaking

        and squirming to t was very queer, especially in

        dark nigs o vast and ogonal

        to feel t jerk, wo

        interrupt your dreams and link you to Nature again.    It seemed as if

        I mig cast my line upo the air, as well as downward

        into t, wo

        fis h one hook.

        though very

        beautiful, does not approaco grandeur, nor    it much

        o or lived by its s this

        pond is so remarkable for its depty as to merit a

        particular description.    It is a clear and deep green well, half a

        mile long and a mile and ters in circumference, and

        tains about sixty-one and a he

        midst of pine and oak    any visible i or outlet

        except by tion.    the surrounding hills rise

        abruptly from ter to t of forty to eig,

        t a ttain to about one hundred

        and one y feet respectively, er and a

        they are exclusively woodland.    All our cord

        ers    least; one ance, and

        anot    depends more on the

        lighey

        appear blue at a little distance, especially if agitated, and at a

        great distance all appear alike.    In stormy hey are

        sometimes of a dark slate-color.    to be

        blue one day and green anot any perceptible che

        atmosphe landscape being

        covered er and ice    as green as grass.

        Some sider blue "to be ter, wher liquid or

        solid."    But, looking directly doo our ers from a boat,

        to be of very different colors.    alden is blue at one

        time and green at anot of view.    Lying

        bet partakes of th.

        Vie reflects t near at

        is of a yello he

        sand, t green, wo a uniform dark

        green in ts, viewed even from a

        op, it is of a vivid greehe shore.    Some have referred

        to tion of t it is equally green there

        against the leaves

        are expanded, and it may be simply t of the prevailing blue

        mixed s iris.

        t portion, also, whe ice being

        of ted from ttom, and also

        transmitted ts first and forms a narrow al

        about till frozen middle.    Like t of our ers, when

        mucated, in clear    the waves

        may reflect t t angle, or because there is more

        lig, it appears at a little distance of a darker

        blue tself; and at sucime, being on its surface,

        and looking o see tion, I have

        dised a matc blue, sucered

        or c, more cerulean the

        sky itself, alternating e

        sides of t appeared but muddy in parison.    It

        is a vitreous greenis, like tches of

        ter sky seen tas in t before sundown.

        Yet a single glass of its er o t is as colorless

        as an equal quantity of air.    It is    a large plate of

        glass , oo its

        "body," but a small piece of the same will be colorless.    how large

        a body of alden er o reflect a green tint I

        er of our river is black or a very dark

        broo one looking directly do, and, like t of most

        ponds, imparts to t a yellowisinge;

        but ter is of sucalline purity t the

        bater ill more unnatural,

        ed hal, produces a

        monstrous effect, making fit studies for a Michael Angelo.

        ter is so transparent t ttom    easily be

        dised at ty-five or ty feet.    Paddling over

        it, you may see, ma behe schools of perch

        and s the former easily

        distinguisransverse bars, and you t t

        be ascetic fis find a subsisteer,

        many years ago, wting he i

        order to catcepped asossed my axe ba

        to t, as if some evil genius ed it, it slid

        four or five rods directly into one of ter

        y-five feet deep.    Out of curiosity, I lay dohe ice

        and looked til I satle on one

        side, standing on its s    aly swaying

        to and fro    migood

        ered sill in time tted off,

        if I    disturbed it.    Making anotly over it

        ting do birch

        wh my knife, I made a

        slip-noose, s end, and, letting it down

        carefully, passed it over t by a

        line along t again.

        t of smoote stones

        like paving-stones, excepting one or two s sand beaches, and is

        so steep t in many places a single leap o er

        over your    not for its remarkable transparency,

        t    to be seen of its bottom till it rose on the

        opposite side.    Some t is bottomless.    It is nowhere muddy,

        and a casual observer    t all in

        it; and of noticeable plants, except in ttle meadoly

        overfloo it, a closer scrutiny

        does not detect a flag nor a bulrush, nor even a lily, yellow or

        only a feamogetons, and

        perer-target or t

        perceive; and ts are    and brig

        toend a rod or to ter, and

        ttom is pure sand, except in t parts, where

        ttle sediment, probably from the

        leaves o it so many successive falls, and

        a brig up on ancer.

        e    like te Pond, in Nine Acre

        er, about t, though I am

        acquainted    of this

        tre I do not knoer.

        Successive nations perc, admired, and fathomed

        it, and passed aill its er is green and pellucid as

        ever.    Not an iting spring!    Per spring m

        w of Eden alden Pond was already in

        existence, and even tle spring rain

        apanied    and a south myriads

        of ducks and geese, w ill such

        pure lakes sufficed t o rise and

        fall, and s ers and colored they

        noained a patent of o be the only alden Pond

        in tiller of celestial dews.    ho knows in how many

        unremembered nations literatures talian

        Fountain? or    is

        a gem of t er w.

        Yet pere

        trace of tsteps.    I o detect

        encirg t been cut down

        on teep hillside,

        alternately rising and falling, approache

        ers edge, as old probably as the

        feet of abinal ers, and still from time to time untingly

        trodden by t octs of ticularly

        distinct to oanding on ter, just

        after a liging we

        line, unobscured by er of a

        mile off in many places w is inguishable

        close at s it, as it were, in clear we

        type alto-relievo.    ted grounds of villas which will one

        day be built ill preserve some trace of this.

        t w, and

        period, nobody ko

        kno is only er and lohe summer,

        t corresponding to t and dryness.    I

        remember    or t

        least five feet .    there is a narrow

        sand-bar running into it, er on one side, on which

        I tle of che main

        s t    been possible to do for

        ty-five years; and, on to listen

        y    a feer I was

        aced to fis in a secluded cove in the woods,

        fifteen rods from they knew, which place was long

        since verted into a meado teadily for

        t five feet higher

        t y years ago, and

        fishis makes a difference of

        level, at tside, of six or seve; aer shed

        by t in amount, and this

        overflo be referred to causes he deep springs.

        to fall again.    It is remarkable

        t tuation, o

        require many years for its aplis.    I have observed one rise

        and a part of t t a dozen or fifteen years

        er will again be as low as I .

        Flints Pond, a mile easturbance

        occasioned by its is and outlets, and termediate

        ponds also, sympatly attaiheir

        greatest    at time ter.    true,

        as far as my observation goes, of e Pond.

        t long intervals serves this use

        at least; ter standing at t    for a year or

        more, t makes it difficult to , kills the

        srees s edge si

        rise -- pitchers -- and,

        falling again, leaves an unobstructed shore; for, unlike many ponds

        and all ers o a daily tide, its shore is

        est .    On t my

        feet high, has been killed and

        tipped over as if by a lever, and top put to their

        encroacs; and tes how many years have elapsed

        si rise to t.    By tuation the pond

        asserts its title to a she

        trees ot    by righe lips of

        t licks its cime to

        time.    er is at its , the alders, willows, and

        maples send forts several feet long from

        all sides of tems in ter, and to t of three or

        four feet from t to maintain themselves; and

        I    the shore, which

        only produo fruit, bear an abundant crop uhese

        circumstances.

        Some o tell he shore became sularly

        paved.    My toion -- t

        people tell me t t in t aly

        the Indians were holding a po upon a hill here, which rose as

        o to th, and

        ty, as toes, this vice is one

        of wy, and whus

        ehe hill shook and suddenly sank, and only one old squaw,

        named alden, escaped, and from    has been

        jectured t s

        side and became t s is very certain, at any rate,

        t ohis

        Indian fable does not in any respect flict    of

        t a settler wioned, who remembers so well

        w came hin vapor

        rising from ted steadily downward, and

        o dig a ill

        t to be ated for by tion of the

        I observe t the surrounding hills are

        remarkably full of tones, so t they have been

        obliged to pile t

        stones whe

        s abrupt; so t, unfortunately, it is no longer a

        mystery to me.    I detect t derived

        from t of some Englisy -- Saffron alden, for instance

        -- one mig it was called inally alled-in Pond.

        ts

        er is as cold as it is pure at all times; and I t it is

        t t, in toer,

        all er han springs and

        ed from it.    temperature of the pond

        er    from five oclo

        ternoon till noon t day, the

        ter o 65x or 70x some of time, owing

        partly to than

        ter of one of t    drawn.

        temperature of the

        of aried, t is t t I know of

        in summer,    surface er is not

        mingled .    Moreover, in summer, alden never bees so warm

        as most er    of its depth.

        In t her I usually placed a pailful in my cellar,

        , and remained s the day;

        ted to a spring in t was as

        good e of

        the shore of a

        pond, needs only bury a pail of er a fe deep in the shade

        of o be indepe of the luxury of ice.

        t in alden pickerel, one weighing seven

        pounds -- to say noth

        great velocity,    eight pounds

        because    see s, some of each weighing

        over two pounds, shiners, chivins or roach (Leuciscus pulchellus), a

        very few breams, and a couple of eels, one weighing four pounds -- I

        am ticular because t of a fiss only

        title to fame, and the only eels I have heard of here; --

        also, I    recolle of a little fish some five inches

        long,    dace-like in

        its cer, s to

        fable.     very fertile in fiss

        pickerel, t abundant, are its c.    I

        oime lying on t least t

        kinds: a long and seel-colored, most like t

        in t golden kind, ions and

        remarkably deep, w on her,

        golden-colored, and s, but peppered on the sides

        s, intermixed

        blood-red ones, very mucrout.    the specifiame

        reticulatus    apply to t status rather.

        their size

        promises.    ts, and perche

        fis this pond, are much er, handsomer, and

        firmer-fles othe

        er is purer, and tinguishem.

        Probably many ics ies of some of

        tortoises, and a few

        mussels in it; muskrats and minks leave traces about it, and

        occasionally a travelling mud-turtle visits it.    Sometimes, when I

        pus in turbed a great mud-turtle

        .    Ducks and

        geese frequent it in te-bellied swallows

        (, and ts (totanus

        macularius) "teeter" along its stony shores all summer.    I have

        sometimes disturbed a fisting on a he

        er; but I doubt if it is ever profaned by the wind of a gull,

        like Fair    most, it tolerates one annual loon.    these are

        all t it now.

        You may see from a boat, in calm he sandy

        eastern ser is eige deep, and also

        in some ots of the pond, some circular heaps half a dozen

        feet in diameter by a foot in , sisting of small stones

        less t

        first you he ice

        for any purpose, and so, o the

        bottom; but tular and some of too fresh

        for t.    to t as there

        are no suckers nor lampreys    by w fishey could

        be made.    Pers of these lend a

        pleasing mystery to ttom.

        t to be monotonous.    I have in

        my miern, ied he bolder

        nortifully scalloped southern shore, where

        successive capes overlap eaexplored coves

        bet ting, nor is so

        distinctly beautiful, as whe middle of a small lake

        amid ers edge; for ter in which

        it is reflected not only makes t fround in such a case,

        but, s ural and agreeable boundary

        to it.    tion in its edge there, as

        ivated field abuts on it.

        trees o expand on ter side, and each

        sends forts most vigorous branc dire.    there

        Nature ural selvage, and t

        gradations from to t trees.

        traans o be seen.    ter laves the

        s did a thousand years ago.

        A lake is t beautiful and expressive feature.

        It is earto whe

        depture.    tile trees he shore are

        t, and the wooded hills and

        cliffs around are its ing brows.

        Standing on t t end of the pond,

        in a calm September afternoon, w e

        sinct, I ;the

        glassy surface of a lake."     your    looks like

        a t gossamer stretche valley, and

        gleaming against tant pine ing oratum of

        tmosp you could walk

        dry u to te    the swallows which skim

        .    Iimes dive belohis

        line, as it ake, and are undeceived.    As you look over

        to employ boto

        defend your eyes against ted as rue sun, for

        t; and if, bets

        surface critically, it is literally as smoot where

        ter is, at equal intervals scattered over its whole

        extent, by tions in t imaginable

        sparkle on it, or, percself, or, as I have

        said, a so touc.    It may be t in the

        distance a fis in the air,

        and t flas emerges, and anot

        strikes ter; sometimes the whole silvery arc is revealed; or

        le-doing on its surface,

        and so dimple it again.    It is like molten

        glass cooled but not gealed, and tes in it are pure and

        beautiful like tions in glass.    You may ofte a

        yet smooter, separated from t as if by an

        invisible cober nymping on it.    From a

        op you    see a fis any part; for not a

        pickerel or s from t it

        maly disturbs t is

        elaborate is advertised --

        t -- and from my distant perch I

        distinguisions whey are half a dozen rods

        in diameter.    You    eve a er-bug (Gyrinus) ceaselessly

        progressing over ter of a mile off; for

        ter slightly, making a spicuous ripple bounded

        by t ters glide over it

        rippling it perceptibly.    ated

        ters ns on it, but apparently, in calm

        days, turously glide forthe

        s impulses till tely cover it.    It is a

        soot, on one of the fall when all

        ted, to sit on a stump on

        suc as tudy the dimpling

        circles s otherwise invisible

        surface amid ted skies and trees.    Over t expanse

        turba it is t once gently smoothed away

        and assuaged, as, rembling

        circles seek t a fish    leap

        or an i fall on t it is ted in cirg

        dimples, in lines of beauty, as it ant welling up of

        its fountain, tle pulsing of its life, ts

        breast.    thrills of pain are

        undistinguishe lake!    Again

        twig

        and stone and id-afternoon as when covered

        ion of an oar or an i

        produces a flas; and if an oar falls,    the echo!

        In sucember or October, alden is a perfect

        forest mirror, set round ones as precious to my eye as if

        fe time so

        large, as a lake, perch.    Sky

        er.    It needs no fence.    Nations e and go    defiling it.

        It is a mirror wone    crack, whose quicksilver will

        never inually repairs; no storms,

        no dust,    dim its surface ever fresh; -- a mirror in which all

        impurity preseo it sinks, s and dusted by the suns hazy

        brus dust-clotains no breat

        is breat, but sends its oo float as clouds high above

        its surface, and be reflected in its bosom still.

        A field of er betrays t t is in t is

        tinually receiving neion from above.    It is

        intermediate in its nature bethe

        grass and trees    ter itself is rippled by the wind.

        I see reaks or flakes of

        lig is remarkable t s surface.    e

        s length, and

        mark ler spirit s.

        ters and er-bugs finally disappear in tter part

        of October, ws hen and in

        November, usually, in a calm day, tely noto

        ripple ternoon, in t the end

        of a rain-storm of several days duration, will

        pletely overcast and t, I observed t

        t it    to

        distinguiss surface; t no longer reflected t

        tints of October, but the surrounding

        as gently as possible, t

        undulations produced by my boat extended almost as far as I could

        see, and gave a ribbed appearao tions.    But, as I was

        looking over t a distance a faint

        glimmer, as if some skater is ws

        miged the surface, being so

        smootrayed wtom.    Paddling

        gently to one of to find myself

        surrounded by myriads of small perc five inches long, of a

        ricer, sp tantly

        rising to t, sometimes leaving bubbles on

        it.    In susparent and seemingly bottomless er, refleg

        to be floating the air as in a balloon,

        and t or h, as

        if t flock of birds passing just beh my level

        on t or left, t all around them.

        tly improving the

        s season before er er over their

        broad skyligimes giving to the surfa appearance as if

        a sligruck it, or a fehere.    hen I

        approachey made a sudden splash

        and rippling ails, as if one ruck ter h a

        brusantly te in t length

        t increased, and to run, and

        t of er, a

        s, t once above the surface.

        Even as late as th of December, one year, I saw some dimples

        on t o rain ely,

        t, I made e to take my place at the oars

        and row hough

        I felt none on my cicipated a t

        suddenly the perch,

        hs, and I saw

        t a dry afternoon after

        all.

        An old man    ty years

        ago, s, tells me t in

        times sa all alive her

        er-fo t it.    he came here

        a-fishe shore.

        It    and piogether, and

        off square at t    lasted a

        great many years before it became er-logged and pero

        ttom.     kno beloo the pond.

        o make a cable for rips of hickory bark

        tied togetter, whe pond before

        tion, told    t at the

        bottom, and t .    Sometimes it ing

        up to t o, it o

        deep er and disappear.    I o he old log

        oe, erial

        but mraceful stru, w been a

        tree on t o ter, to

        float tion, t proper vessel for the lake.

        I remember t o there were

        many large trunks to be seen indistinctly lying on ttom, which

        on t t

        cutting, ly

        disappeared.

        paddled a boat on alden, it ely

        surrounded by ty pine and oak s

        coves grape-vines rees er and formed

        bos

        seep, and t,

        as you looked do end, it he appearance of an

        ampre for some land of sylvaacle.    I    many

        an ing over its surface as the zephyr

        o the middle, and lying on my back

        across ts, in a summer forenoon, dreaming ail I was

        aroused by t touco see w shore

        my fates o; days w

        attractive and productive industry.    Many a forenoon olen

        ao spend t valued part of the day; for

        I was ri money, in sunny hours and summer days, and

        spent t t I did not e more of

        teace I left those

        sill furte, and now

        for many a year the aisles of

        tas ter.

        My Muse may be excused if s h.    how    you

        expect to sing w down?

        Norunks of trees on ttom, and the old log oe,

        and the villagers, who

        scarcely knoead of going to to bathe

        or drink, are t its er, which should be as sacred

        as t least, to to washeir

        diso earn turning of a cock or

        dra devilish Iron horse, whose ear-rending

        own, he Boiling Spring

        , and    is t he woods on

        alden s trojan housand men in his belly,

        introduced by merary Greeks!    rys champion,

        to meet    t and t an

        avenging laed pest?

        ers I have known, perhaps alden

        , a preserves its purity.    Many men have been

        likeo it, but fe he woodchoppers

        t, and the Irish have

        built ties by it, and ts

        border, and t o is itself

        uncer whe

        c    acquired one perma er

        all its ripples.    It is perennially young, and I may stand and see a

        sly to pi i from its surface as of

        yore.    It struck me again tonig seen it almost

        daily for more ty years -- he same

        I discovered so many years ago; w

        do er anots shore as

        lustily as ever; t is o its surface t

        is to itself and its

        Maker, ay, and it may be to me.    It is the work of a brave man

        surely, in h his

        in , and in his will

        bequeat to cord.    I see by its face t it is visited by

        tion; and I    almost say, alden, is it you?

        It is no dream of mine,

        to or a line;

        I ot e o God and heaven

        to alden even.

        I am its stony shore,

        And t passes oer;

        In the hollow of my hand

        Are its er and its sand,

        And its deepest resort

        Lies .

        to look at it; yet I fancy t the

        engineers and firemen and brakemen, and those passengers who have a

        season ticket a often, are better men for t.    the

        engineer does not fet at nigure does not, t he

        y and purity o least during

        t o o ate Street

        and t.    One proposes t it be called "Gods Drop."

        I    alden    nor outlet, but it

        is on tantly and ily related to Flints Pond,

        wed, by a c

        quarter, and on tly and maly to cord River,

        whrough whi some

        ot may tle digging,

        o flain.    If by

        living tere, like a    in the woods, so

        long, it y,

        t tively impure ers of Flints Pond should be

        mingled , or itself so e its sness in

        the o wave?

        Flints, or Sandy Pond, in Lin, reatest lake and inland

        sea, lies about a mile east of alden.    It is much larger, being

        said to tain one y-seven acres, and is more

        fertile in fis it is paratively s remarkably

        pure.    A en my recreation.    It

        o feel the wind blow on your cheek

        freely, ahe life of mariners.    I

        a-utting ts

        o ter and ; and one

        day, as I crept along its sedgy she fresh spray blowing in my

        face, I came upon t, the sides gone,

        and s flat bottom left amid the

        rus its model was s were a large

        decayed pad, s veins.    It was as impressive a wreck as one

        could imagine on t is by

        time mere vegetable mould and undistinguishable pond shore,

        to admire the

        ripple marks on ttom, at this pond,

        made firm and o t of the

        er, and the rushes which grew in Indian file, in waving lines,

        corresponding to the waves had

        plaities,

        curious balls, posed apparently of fine grass or roots, of

        pipe pero four incer, and

        perfectly sper on

        a sandy bottom, and are sometimes cast on they are

        eittle sand in t first

        you    tion of the waves, like

        a pebble; yet t are made of equally coarse materials,

        one season of the

        year.    Moreover, t, do not so mucruct as

        erial hey

        preserve te period.

        Flints Pond!    Sucy of our nomenclature.

        rigupid farmer, his

        sky er, wo give his

        o it?    Some skin-flint, ing

        surface of a dollar, or a brig, in which he could see his own

        brazen face;    as

        trespassers; o crooked and bony talons from the

        long    of grasping    is not named for me.    I

        go not to see o , who

        never bat, ed it, who

        never spoke a good , nor t .

        Rat it be named from t s, the wild

        fo, the wild flowers which grow by

        its sory is

        inters o from itle to it

        but ture gave him --

        only of its money value; whose presence perce

        cursed all ted t, and would

        faiers ;    it

        Engliso

        redeem it, forsooth, in his eyes -- and would have drained and sold

        it for t its bottom.    It did not turn    was

        no privilege to o be.    I respeot his labors, his

        farm ws price, whe landscape,

        , if    anything for

        o market for    is; on whing

        grows free, whose fields bear no crops, whose meadows no flowers,

        s, but dollars; y of his

        fruits,    ripe for ill turo

        dollars.    Give me ty t enjoys true h.    Farmers are

        respectable and iing to me in proportion as they are poor --

        poor farmers.    A model farm! wands like a fungus in

        a muckheap, chambers for men horses, oxen, and swine, sed and

        unsed, all tiguous to one anotocked h men!    A

        great grease-spot, redolent of manures and buttermilk!    Under a high

        state of cultivation, being manured s and brains of

        men!    As if you o raise your potatoes in the churchyard!    Such

        is a model farm.

        No, no; if t features of to be named

        after me and    men alone.    Let our

        lakes receive as true    least as the Icarian Sea, where

        "still t; a "brave attempt resounds."

        Goose Pond, of small extent, is on my o Flints; Fair

        o tain some seventy

        acres, is a mile sout; and e Pond, of about forty acres, is

        a mile and a ry.

        ter privileges; and night and

        day, year in year out, t as I carry to them.

        Siers, and the railroad, and I myself have

        profaned aldetractive, if not t

        beautiful, of all our lakes, te Pond; --

        a poor name from its onness, whe remarkable

        purity of its ers or ts sands.    In these as in

        ots,    is a lesser they are so

        muc you    be ected under ground.

        It ony ss ers are of the same hue.    As

        at alden, in sultry dog-day he woods

        on some of its bays    t tion

        from ttom tis ers are of a misty bluish-green

        laucous color.    Many years since I used to go to collect

        tloads, to make sandpaper inued

        to visit it ever since.    One    proposes to call it

        Virid Lake.    Per mighe

        folloance.    About fifteen years ago you could see the

        top of a pitcs,

        t is not a distinct species, projeg above the surfa

        deep er, many rods from t was even supposed by some

        t tive forest

        t formerly stood t even so long ago as 1792, in

        a "topograpion of to; by one of its

        citizens, in tions of tts orical

        Society, ter speaking of alden and e Ponds, adds,

        "In tter may be seen, wer is very

        loree    now

        stands, alts are fifty feet belohe

        er; top of tree is broken off, and at t place

        measures fourteen incer."    In the spring of 49 I

        talked    told

        me t it    tree ten or fifteen years before.

        As near as    stood teen rods from

        ter y or forty feet deep.    It was in

        ter, and ting out i the forenoon, and had

        resolved t in ternoon, he aid of his neighbors, he

        ake out the ice

        to over and along and out on to the ice

        , before he had gone far in his work, he was surprised

        to find t it umps of the

        brang doened in the

        sandy bottom.    It    a foot in diameter at the big end, and

        ed to get a good sa it ten as to be

        fit only for fuel, if for t.     in hen.

        tt.    he

        t t it migree on t was

        finally bloo ter top had bee

        er-logged, ill dry and light, had

        drifted out and sunk wrong end up.    y years old,

        could not remember    tty large logs

        may still be seen lying on ttom, he

        undulation of ter snakes in

        motion.

        t, for there is

        little in it to tempt a fisead of te lily, which

        requires mud, or t flag, the blue flag (Iris

        versicroer, rising from tony

        bottom all around t is visited by hummingbirds in

        June; and ts bluiss flowers and

        especially tions, is in singular he

        glaucous er.

        e Pond and alden are great crystals on the

        eart.    If tly gealed, and

        small enougo be clutchey would, perce, be carried off

        by slaves, like precious stoo adorn t

        being liquid, and ample, and secured to us and our successors

        forever, er the diamond of Kohinoor.

        too pure to    value; tain no muck.    how

        muciful transparent than

        our cers, are them.    how

        muche farmers door, in which his

        ducks swim!    ure has no human

        inant wes heir plumage and

        tes are in    h or

        maiden spires    beauty of Nature?    She

        flouris alone, far from towns walk

        of h.
请记住本书首发域名：966xs.com。966小说手机版阅读网址：wap.966xs.com