Thoreau writes in his journal:
P.M.—To Fair Haven Pond and return via Andromeda Ponds and railroad . . .
As usual, I now see, walking on the river and river meadow ice, thus thinly covered with the fresh snow, that conical rainbow, or parabola of rainbow-colored reflections, from the myriad reflecting crystals of the snow, i.e., as I walk toward the sun . . .
Ellen Sewall writes to her father Edmund Quincy Sewall Sr. on 31 July:
Springfield, Mass. Thoreau writes to Charles Sumner:
I left Fire Island Beach on Saturday between nine & ten o’clock A. M. The same morning I saw on the beach, four or five miles west of the wreck, a portion of a human skeleton, which was found the day before, probably from the Elisabeth, but I have not knowledge enough of anatomy to decide confidently, as many might, whether it was that of a male or a female. I therefore hired Selah Strong, Keeper of the Light, to bury it simply for the present, and mark the spot, leaving it to future events, or a trustworthy examination, to decide the question.
Yrs in haste
Henry D. Thoreau
P.S. No more bodies had then been found.
Sumner replies 31 July.
New York, N.Y. The New-York Daily Tribune reports:
Concord, Mass. Ralph Waldo Emerson writes to Abby Larkin Adams:
Thoreau writes in his journal:
Thoreau writes in his journal:
The forget-me-not still by the brook. Floating-heart was very common yesterday in J.P. Brown’s woodland pond . . .
It is commonly said that history is a history of war, but it is at the same time a history of development . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
Pratt lave me a chimney swallow’s nest, which he says fell clown Wesson’s chimney with young in it two or three days ago . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
Thoreau writes in “The Allegash and East Branch” chapter of The Maine Woods:
When we awoke it had done raining, though it was still cloudy. The fire was put out, and the Indian’s boots, which stood under the eaves of the tent, were half full of water. He was more improvident is such respects than either of us, and he had to thank us for keeping his powder dry . . .
When we reached the shore, the Indian appeared from out the woods on the opposite side, but on account of the roar of the water it, was difficult to communicate with him . . . But to my surprise, when I rounded the precipice, though the shore was bare of trees, without rocks, for a quarter mile at least, my companion [Joseph Polis] was not to be seen. It was as if he had sunk into the earth. This was the more unaccountable to me, because I knew that his feet were, since our swamp walk, very sore, and that he wished to keep up with the party; and besides this was very bad walking, climbing over or about the rocks. I hastened along, hallooing and searching for him, thinking he might be concealed behind a rock, yet doubting if he had not taken the other side of the precipice, but the Indian had got along still faster in his canoe, til he was arrested by the falls, about a quarter of a mile below. He then landed, and said that we could go no farther that night . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
Thoreau writes in his journal:
Tire river is very nearly down to summer level now, and I notice there, among other phenomena of low water by the river, the great yellow lily pads flat on bare mud . . .
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