JUNE 



29 



We hug the earth, how rarely we mount! 

 Methinks we might elevate ourselves a little more. 

 We might climb a tree at least. I found my 

 account in .climbing a tree once. It was a tall 

 white pine, on the top of a hill ; and though I got 

 well pitched, I was well paid for it, for I discov- 

 ered new mountains in the horizon which I had 

 never seen before, so much more of the earth 

 and the heavens. . . . But, above all, I discovered 

 around me, it was near the end of June, on 

 the ends of the topmost branches only, a few mi- 

 nute and delicate red cone-like blossoms, the fer- 

 tile flower of the white pine looking heavenward. 



THOREAU: Walking. 

 30 



Saw a little skunk coming up the river bank in 

 the woods at the white oak, a funny little fellow, 

 about six inches long and nearly as broad. It 

 faced me and actually compelled me to retreat 

 before it for five minutes. Perhaps I was be- 

 tween it and its hole. Its broad black tail, tipped 

 with white, was erect like a kitten's. It had 

 what looked like a broad white band drawn tight 

 across its forehead or top-head, from which two 

 lines of white ran down one on each side of its 

 back, and there was a narrow white line down its 

 snout. 



THOREAU: Summer. 



