164 THE FACE OF THE FIELDS 



the lane, cut a bee-line through the pasture, and 

 drop, for his first look at the landscape, to the 

 bottom of the pit in the seam-face granite quarry. 

 Here he would pull out his note-book and a 

 gnarly wild apple from his pocket, and intensely, 

 critically, chemically, devouring said apple, make 

 note in the book that the apples of Eden were 

 flat, the apples of Sodom bitter, but this wild, 

 tough, wretched, impossible apple of the Hing- 

 ham hills united all ambrosial essences in its 

 striking odor of squash-bugs. 



Mr. Burroughs takes us along with him. Tho- 

 reau comes upon us in the woods jumps out 

 at us from behind some bush, with a "Scat!" 

 Burroughs brings us home in time for tea ; Tho- 

 reau leaves us tangled up in the briars. 



It won't hurt us to be jumped at now and then 

 and told to " scat /" It won't hurt us to be digged 

 by the briars. It is good for us, otherwise we 

 might forget that we are beneath our clothes. It 

 is good for us and highly diverting, but highly 

 irritating too. 



For my part, when I take up an outdoor 

 book I am glad if there is quiet in it, and fra- 

 grance, and something of the saneness and sweet- 



