158 A WEEK ON WALDEN'S BIDGE. 



wanted simply a pleasant stroll. " Then I 

 would go to the Brow, if I were you," said 

 the man. " Keep a straight road. It is n't 

 far." I thanked him, and with a cheery 

 "Come on! " to his playmates he ran back, 

 literally, to the ring. Yes, life is easy in 

 the Tennessee mountains. It is not to be 

 assumed, nevertheless, that the man was a 

 do-nothing: probably he had struck work 

 for a few minutes only ; but, like a sensible 

 player, he was enjoying the game while it 

 lasted. Perhaps it is a certain inborn Puri- 

 tanical industriousness, against which I have 

 never found the courage effectually to rebel, 

 that makes me look back upon this door- 

 yard comedy as one of the brightest inci- 

 dents of my Tennessee vacation. Fancy a 

 Massachusetts farmer playing marbles at 

 nine o'clock in the forenoon ! 



At that moment, it must be owned, a re- 

 buke of idleness would have fallen with a 

 poor grace from my Massachusetts lips. If 

 the player of marbles had followed his ques- 

 tioner round the first turn, he would have 

 seen him standing motionless beside a swamp, 

 holding his head on one side as if listening, 

 — though there was nothing to be heard, — ^ 



