左叶小说网

手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

where i lived and what i lived fr（第1页）

Atacertainseasonofourlifeweareaccustomedtoconsidereveryspotasthepossiblesiteofahouse.IhavethussurveyedthecountryoneverysidewithinadozenmilesofwhereIlive.InimaginationIhaveboughtallthefarmsinsuccession，forallweretobebought，andIknewtheirprice.Iwalkedovereachfarmer'spremises，tastedhiswildapples，discoursedonhusbandrywithhim，tookhisfarmathisprice，atanyprice，mortgagingittohiminmymind;evenputahigherpriceonit—tookeverythingbutadeedofit—tookhiswordforhisdeed，forIdearlylovetotalk—cultivatedit，andhimtootosomeextent，Itrust，andwithdrewwhenIhadenjoyeditlongenough，leavinghimtocarryiton.Thisexperienceentitledmetoberegardedasasortofreal-estatebrokerbymyfriends.WhereverIsat，thereImightlive，andthelandscaperadiatedfrommeaccordingly.Whatisahousebutasedes，aseat?—betterifacountryseat.Idiscoveredmanyasiteforahousenotlikelytobesoonimproved，whichsomemighthavethoughttoofarfromthevillage，buttomyeyesthevillagewastoofarfromit.Well，thereImightlive，Isaid;andthereIdidlive，foranhour，asummerandawinterlife;sawhowIcouldlettheyearsrunoff，buffetthewinterthrough，andseethespringcomein.Thefutureinhabitantsofthisregion，wherevertheymayplacetheirhouses，maybesurethattheyhavebeenanticipated.Anafternoonsufficedtolayoutthelandintoorchard，wood-lot，andpasture，andtodecidewhatfineoaksorpinesshouldbelefttostandbeforethedoor，andwhenceeachblastedtreecouldbeseentothebestadvantage;andthenIletitlie，fallowperchance，foramanisrichinproportiontothenumberofthingswhichhecanaffordtoletalone.

MyimaginationcarriedmesofarthatIevenhadtherefusalofseveralfarms—therefusalwasallIwanted—butInevergotmyfingersburnedbyactualpossession.ThenearestthatIcametoactualpossessionwaswhenIboughttheHollowellplace，andhadbeguntosortmyseeds，andcollectedmaterialswithwhichtomakeawheelbarrowtocarryitonoroffwith;butbeforetheownergavemeadeedofit，hiswife—everymanhassuchawife—changedhermindandwishedtokeepit，andheofferedmetendollarstoreleasehim.Now，tospeakthetruth，Ihadbuttencentsintheworld，anditsurpassedmyarithmetictotell，ifIwasthatmanwhohadtencents，orwhohadafarm，ortendollars，oralltogether.However，Ilethimkeepthetendollarsandthefarmtoo，forIhadcarrieditfarenough;orrather，tobegenerous，IsoldhimthefarmforjustwhatIgaveforit，and，ashewasnotarichman，madehimapresentoftendollars，andstillhadmytencents，andseeds，andmaterialsforawheelbarrowleft.IfoundthusthatIhadbeenarichmanwithoutanydamagetomypoverty.ButIretainedthelandscape，andIhavesinceannuallycarriedoffwhatityieldedwithoutawheelbarrow.Withrespecttolandscapes—

IammonarchofallIsurvey，

Myrightthereisnonetodispute.

Ihavefrequentlyseenapoetwithdraw，havingenjoyedthemostvaluablepartofafarm，whilethecrustyfarmersupposedthathehadgotafewwildapplesonly.Why，theownerdoesnotknowitformanyyearswhenapoethasputhisfarminrhyme，themostadmirablekindofinvisiblefence，hasfairlyimpoundedit，milkedit，skimmedit，andgotallthecream，andleftthefarmeronlytheskimmedmilk.

TherealattractionsoftheHollowellfarm，tome，were;itscompleteretirement，beingabouttwomilesfromthevillage，halfamilefromthenearestneighbor，andseparatedfromthehighwaybyabroadfield;itsboundingontheriver，whichtheownersaidprotecteditbyitsfogsfromfrostsinthespring，thoughthatwasnothingtome;thegraycolorandruinousstateofthehouseandbarn，andthedilapidatedfences，whichputsuchanintervalbetweenmeandthelastoccupant;thehollowandlichen-coveredappletrees，gnawedbyrabbits，showingwhatkindofneighborsIshouldhave;butaboveall，therecollectionIhadofitfrommyearliestvoyagesuptheriver，whenthehousewasconcealedbehindadensegroveofredmaples，throughwhichIheardthehouse-dogbark.Iwasinhastetobuyit，beforetheproprietorfinishedgettingoutsomerocks，cuttingdownthehollowappletrees，andgrubbingupsomeyoungbircheswhichhadsprungupinthepasture，or，inshort，hadmadeanymoreofhisimprovements.ToenjoytheseadvantagesIwasreadytocarryiton;likeAtlas，totaketheworldonmyshoulders—Ineverheardwhatcompensationhereceivedforthat—anddoallthosethingswhichhadnoothermotiveorexcusebutthatImightpayforitandbeunmolestedinmypossessionofit;forIknewallthewhilethatitwouldyieldthemostabundantcropofthekindIwantedifIcouldonlyaffordtoletitalone.ButitturnedoutasIhavesaid.

AllthatIcouldsay，then，withrespecttofarmingonalargescale（Ihavealwayscultivatedagarden）was，thatIhadhadmyseedsready.Manythinkthatseedsimprovewithage.Ihavenodoubtthattimediscriminatesbetweenthegoodandthebad;andwhenatlastIshallplant，Ishallbelesslikelytobedisappointed.ButIwouldsaytomyfellows，onceforall，Aslongaspossiblelivefreeanduncommitted.Itmakesbutlittledifferencewhetheryouarecommittedtoafarmorthecountyjail.

OldCato，whose'DeReRusticâ'ismy'Cultivator'，says，andtheonlytranslationIhaveseenmakessheernonsenseofthepassage，'Whenyouthinkofgettingafarm，turnitthusinyourmind，nottobuygreedily;norspareyourpainstolookatit，anddonotthinkitenoughtogorounditonce.Theofteneryougotherethemoreitwillpleaseyou，ifitisgood.'IthinkIshallnotbuygreedily，butgoroundandrounditaslongasIlive，andbeburiedinitfirst，thatitmaypleasemethemoreatlast.

Thepresentwasmynextexperimentofthiskind，whichIpurposetodescribemoreatlength;forconvenience，puttingtheexperienceoftwoyearsintoone.AsIhavesaid，Idonotproposetowriteanodetodejection，buttobragaslustilyaschanticleerinthemorning，standingonhisroost，ifonlytowakemyneighborsup.

WhenfirstItookupmyabodeinthewoods，thatis，begantospendmynightsaswellasdaysthere，which，byaccident，wasonIndependenceday，orthefourthofJuly，1845，myhousewasnotfinishedforwinter，butwasmerelyadefenceagainsttherain，withoutplasteringorchimney，thewallsbeingofroughweather-stainedboards，withwidechinks，whichmadeitcoolatnight.Theuprightwhitehewnstudsandfreshlyplaneddoorandwindowcasingsgaveitacleanandairylook，especiallyinthemorning，whenitstimbersweresaturatedwithdew，sothatIfanciedthatbynoonsomesweetgumwouldexudefromthem.Tomyimaginationitretainedthroughoutthedaymoreorlessofthisauroralcharacter，remindingmeofacertainhouseonamountainwhichIhadvisitedtheyearbefore.Thiswasanairyandunplasteredcabin，fittoentertainatravellinggod，andwhereagoddessmighttrailhergarments.Thewindswhichpassedovermydwellingweresuchassweepovertheridgesofmountains，bearingthebrokenstrains，orcelestialpartsonly，ofterrestrialmusic.Themorningwindforeverblows，thepoemofcreationisuninterrupted;butfewaretheearsthathearit.Olympusisbuttheoutsideoftheeartheverywhere.

TheonlyhouseIhadbeentheownerofbefore，ifIexceptaboat，wasatent，whichIusedoccasionallywhenmakingexcursionsinthesummer，andthisisstillrolledupinmygarret;buttheboat，afterpassingfromhandtohand，hasgonedownthestreamoftime.Withthismoresubstantialshelteraboutme，Ihadmadesomeprogresstowardsettlingintheworld.Thisframe，soslightlyclad，wasasortofcrystallizationaroundme，andreactedonthebuilder.Itwassuggestivesomewhatasapictureinoutlines.Ididnotneedtogooutdoorstotaketheair，fortheatmospherewithinhadlostnoneofitsfreshness.ItwasnotsomuchwithindoorsasbehindadoorwhereIsat，evenintherainiestweather.TheHarivansasays，'Anabodewithoutbirdsislikeameatwithoutseasoning.'Suchwasnotmyabode，forIfoundmyselfsuddenlyneighbortothebirds;notbyhavingimprisonedone，buthavingcagedmyselfnearthem.Iwasnotonlynearertosomeofthosewhichcommonlyfrequentthegardenandtheorchard，buttothosewilderandmorethrillingsongstersoftheforestwhichnever，orrarely，serenadeavillager—thewood-thrush，theveery，thescarlettanager，thefield-sparrow，thewhippoorwill，andmanyothers.

Iwasseatedbytheshoreofasmallpond，aboutamileandahalfsouthofthevillageofConcordandsomewhathigherthanit，inthemidstofanextensivewoodbetweenthattownandLincoln，andabouttwomilessouthofthatouronlyfieldknowntofame，ConcordBattleGround;butIwassolowinthewoodsthattheoppositeshore，halfamileoff，liketherest，coveredwithwood，wasmymostdistanthorizon.Forthefirstweek，wheneverIlookedoutontheponditimpressedmelikeatarnhighuponthesideofamountain，itsbottomfarabovethesurfaceofotherlakes，and，asthesunarose，Isawitthrowingoffitsnightlyclothingofmist，andhereandthere，bydegrees，itssoftripplesoritssmoothreflectingsurfacewasrevealed，whilethemists，likeghosts，werestealthilywithdrawingineverydirectionintothewoods，asatthebreakingupofsomenocturnalconventicle.Theverydewseemedtohanguponthetreeslaterintothedaythanusual，asonthesidesofmountains.

ThissmalllakewasofmostvalueasaneighborintheintervalsofagentlerainstorminAugust，when，bothairandwaterbeingperfectlystill，buttheskyovercast，mid-afternoonhadalltheserenityofevening，andthewood-thrushsangaround，andwasheardfromshoretoshore.Alakelikethisisneversmootherthanatsuchatime;andtheclearportionoftheairaboveitbeingshallowanddarkenedbyclouds，thewater，fulloflightandreflections，becomesalowerheavenitselfsomuchthemoreimportant.Fromahilltopnearby，wherethewoodhadbeenrecentlycutoff，therewasapleasingvistasouthwardacrossthepond，throughawideindentationinthehillswhichformtheshorethere，wheretheiroppositesidesslopingtowardeachothersuggestedastreamflowingoutinthatdirectionthroughawoodedvalley，butstreamtherewasnone.ThatwayIlookedbetweenandovertheneargreenhillstosomedistantandhigheronesinthehorizon，tingedwithblue.Indeed，bystandingontiptoeIcouldcatchaglimpseofsomeofthepeaksofthestillbluerandmoredistantmountainrangesinthenorth-west，thosetrue-bluecoinsfromheaven'sownmint，andalsoofsomeportionofthevillage.Butinotherdirections，evenfromthispoint，Icouldnotseeoverorbeyondthewoodswhichsurroundedme.Itiswelltohavesomewaterinyourneighborhood，togivebuoyancytoandfloattheearth.Onevalueevenofthesmallestwellis，thatwhenyoulookintoityouseethatearthisnotcontinentbutinsular.Thisisasimportantasthatitkeepsbuttercool.WhenIlookedacrossthepondfromthispeaktowardtheSudburymeadows，whichintimeoffloodIdistinguishedelevatedperhapsbyamirageintheirseethingvalley，likeacoininabasin，alltheearthbeyondthepondappearedlikeathincrustinsulatedandfloatedevenbythissmallsheetofinterveningwater，andIwasremindedthatthisonwhichIdweltwasbutdryland.