260 
WALDEN. 
of the house. Indeed, I worked so deliberately, that 
though I commenced at the ground in the morning, a 
course of bricks raised a few inches above the floor 
served for my pillow at night; yet I did not get a stiff 
neck for it that I remember; my stiff neck is of older 
date. I took a poet to board for a fortnight about those 
times, which caused me to be put to it for room. He 
brought his own knife, though I had two, and we used 
to scour them by thrusting them into the earth. He 
shared with me the labors of cooking. I was pleased 
to see my work rising so square and solid by degrees, 
and reflected, that, if it proceeded slowly, it was calcu¬ 
lated to endure a long time. The chimney is to some 
extent an independent structure, standing on the ground 
and rising through the house to the heavens ; even 
after the house is burned it still stands sometimes, and 
its importance and independence are apparent. This 
was toward the end of summer. It was now November. 
The north wind had already begun to cool the pond, 
though it took many weeks of steady blowing to accom¬ 
plish it, it is so deep. When I began to have a fire at 
evening, before I plastered my house, the chimney carried 
smoke particularly well, because of the numerous chinks 
between the boards. Yet I passed some cheerful even¬ 
ings in that cool and airy apartment, surrounded by 
the rough brown boards full of knots, and rafters with 
the bark on high over-head. My house never pleased 
my eye so much after it was plastered, though I was 
obliged to confess that it was more comfortable. Should 
not every. apartment in which man dwells be lofty 
enough to create some obscurity over-head, where flick- 
