THE WHORTLEBERRY PASTURE. 



THOKEAU relates that he once thought of whortleberry- 

 ing as an occupation for a livelihood. This was said in a 

 quaint and paradoxical humor, but there are multitudes 

 who can sympathize with the feelings that prompted his 

 remark. As a quiet outdoor amusement, it is not* sur- 

 passed either by angling or botanizing ; and I cannot see 

 why the whortleberry field should not have its Izaak 

 Walton as well as the lily-pond or the trout-stream. The 

 freedom enjoyed in the open pasture, the simple and 

 honest people whom we meet there, the tiresome, but 

 still agreeable and emulative task of picking the fruit, are 

 only a fraction of our enjoyments. The chirping of vari- 

 ous insects, and their constant sportiveness among the 

 bushes ; the motions of birds and the plaintive melody of 

 the wood-sparrow, which is tuneful nearly the whole month 

 of August, prepare us to be cheerful and delighted with 

 all things. The cattle feeding carelessly upon the hill- 

 sides, the scattered groups of trees and the cool shadows 

 they cast upon the green turf, the sweetness of the air, 

 our unrestrained rambling, the precipitous rocks that in- 

 tercept our way only to disclose a bower of raspberries 

 protected by their walls, the mossy seats under umbrageous 

 pines, the countless wild flowers on every knoll, the pleas- 

 ant sensation of rest after weariness and of coolness after 

 the heat of exercise and weather, all combine to render 

 the whortleberry pasture a field of delight surpassing all 

 that is written of gardens of orange and myrtle. 



The whortleberry is peculiarly an American fruit; 



