MY FARM OF EDGEWOOD 



Of course so anomalous a structure called 

 out the witticisms of my country neighbors. 

 "Was it a blacksmith's shop?" "Was it a 

 saw mill ?" and with a loud appreciatory "guf- 

 faw" the critics pass by. 



Our country tastes are as yet very ambi- 

 tious; homeliness and simplicity are not appe- 

 tizing enough. But in time we shall ripen into 

 a wholesome severity, in this matter. I am 

 gratified to perceive that the harshest observers 

 of my poor cottage in the beginning, have now 

 come to regard it with a kindly interest. It 

 mates so fairly with the landscape,— it mates 

 so fairly with its purpose; it is so resolutely 

 unpretending, and carries such air of perma- 

 nence and durability, that it wins and has won 

 upon the most arrant doubters. 



The country neighbors were inclined to look 

 upon the affair as a piece of stupidity, not com- 

 parable with a fine white house, set off by 

 cupola, and green blinds. But it was presently 

 observed that cultivated people from the town, 

 in driving past, halted for a better view; the 

 halts became frequent; it was intimated that 

 So-and-so, of high repute, absolutely admired 

 the homeliness. Whereupon the country critics 

 undertook an inquiry into the causes of their 

 distaste, and queried if their judgment might 



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