Nature and Culture 41 



"Avoid the very appearance of evil," does not apply 

 to a tamarack swamp, because it appears to be very 

 good and pretty. For example, that beautiful 

 hammock of moss will stand you on your head if it 

 get a chance. That solid bit of turf will take in a 

 whole leg, making a tripod of you. The lovely 

 glade is made up of deception and lies, from side 

 to side and from end to end. 



And then there is such rufifianly rudeness in the 

 behavior of the tamaracks. They strike you a blow 

 on one side of the head, and immediately brace you 

 up by hitting you on the other. They pull off your 

 hat and toss it a rod, and as for your shins, I had 

 to bathe one of mine for a week in Pond's Extract 

 of Hamamelis. One needs as many eyes as a fly — 

 that can look at the heavens above, and the earth 

 beneath, and the waters under the earth, at the 

 same glance — and as he has but two, and the two 

 good only for one ray at a time, while one thing is 

 making injurious reflections upon him, a dozen 

 others are assaulting him. The tamarack is the 

 devil's own tree. It is no good for building, and 

 if you try to use it for firewood, it will burst your 

 stove, or if in a grate, will send firebrands all over 

 the house, with reports like rifles. I am down on 

 the tamarack, or at least I was that day, about a 

 dozen times. Not even the shaking ague can live 

 in a tamarack swamp. The trees greedily eat up 

 the microbes, which shows, in addition to their 

 Other evil qualities, what a depraved appetite they 



