Thoreau writes in his journal:
A third fine day. The sugar maple at Barrett’s is now in full bloom. I finish the arbor to-night . . . Walk to first stone bridge at sunset . . . such an evening makes a crisis in the year. I must make haste home and go out on the water. I paddle to the Wheeler meadow east of hill after sundown . . . Within a week I have had made a pair of corduroy pants, which cost when done $1.60. They are of that peculiar clay-color, reflecting the light from portions of their surface. They have this advantage, that, besides being very strong, they will look about as well three months hence as now,—or as ill, some would say. Most of my friends are disturbed by my wearing them . . .
