Daniel Ricketson writes to Thoreau:
Your long delayed, but very acceptable acknowledgment of the 1st inst. came duly to hand. It requires no answer, and I trust you will not esteem this as such. I simply wish to say, that it will afford me pleasure to show you the Middleborough ponds, as well as the other Indian water spoken of by you, which I conclude to be what is called “Wakeebe Pond,” at Mashpee near Sandwich.
Since I first wrote you my rough board shanty, which I then inhabited and from which I now write, has been partially forsaken, thro’ the house of which I spoke to you as being built, having been completed and my family moved into it; so the shanty is somewhat shorn of its means to the public or vulgar eye at least, but none is less pried by me. Here I spend considerable part of my time in study and mediation, ahd here I also entertained my best and most welcome friends. Now, friend Walden, if it should be agreeable to you to leave home at this pleasant season, I shall be happy to receive you as my guest. Making my farm, which lies about three miles north of New Bedford, headquarters, we can sally for into the adjoining country—to the fine ponds in question and visit other objects of interest hitherward. I am just now quite busily engaged in the improvement of the grounds near my house, but expect to conclude them by the end of the next week, when should it meet your pleasure, I shall be very happy to see you here.
I am quite a tramper as well as yourself, but have horse—flesh and carriages at hand if preferable, which certainly for long distances, with all my antediluvian taste, I deem it to be.
Perhaps your young English friend and author, Mr. Cholmondeley, would like to accompany you, should you conclude to come. If so, please extend the invitation to him should you deem it proper.
I do not wish to push matters at all, but am of the opinion, if you are not too learned, we shall affiliate nicely in our rustic feelings—at any rate it will do no harm to try.
Your short and hastily written note embarrasses me, and I hardly know whether it best or not to send what I have now written, and so conclude, whether this shall reach you or not,
Your friend and fellow-worshipper at Nature’s great shrine
Daniel Ricketson
“Apparently Ricketson did not mail this letter for a while: he said in his journal, 12/14/54: ‘Wrote an invitation to H.D. Thoreau of Concord, author of Walden, and sent a letter which I had had on hand for some time.'”
