FALSE SENTIMENTALITY 



181 



But I like to have forgot— the pork, too, was the flesh 

 of an animal, and it would be difficult to convince a 

 hog that he had not as good a right to life as a deer. 

 At all events, we enjoyed the venison, though perhaps . 

 the sentimentalist might say we were punished in the 

 end, for it made us all outrageously sick. We either 

 cooked it too soon, (for in twenty minutes from the 

 time the deer fell, a part of her was roasting ;) or we 

 ate it too rare, (for we were too hungry to wait till it 

 was perfectly done ;) or we ate too much, (for we were 

 hungry as famished wolves ;) or probably did all three 

 things together, which quite upset me. 



But after the things (i. e. the chips) were cleared 

 away, I stretched myself on the ground under a tree 

 whose dark trunk shone in the light of the cheerful 

 fire, and began to muse on the day that had past. 

 How is it that a scene of quiet beauty makes so much 

 deeper an impression than a startling one? The 

 glorious sunset I had witnessed on that sweet lake — 

 the curving and forest-mantled shores — the green 

 islands — the mellow mountains, all combined to make 

 a scene of surpassing loveliness : and now as I lay and 

 watched, the stars coming out one after another, and 

 twinkling down on me through the tree-tops, all that 



