270 
WALDEN. 
tance of three hundred miles by cultivated plains.” In 
this town the price of wood rises almost steadily, and the 
only question is, how much higher it is to be this year 
than it was the last. Mechanics and tradesmen who 
come in person to the forest on no other errand, are 
sure to attend the wood auction, and even pay a high 
price for the privilege of gleaning after the wood-chop¬ 
per. It is now many years that men have resorted to 
the forest for fuel and the materials of the arts; the 
New Englander and the New Hollander, the Parisian 
and the Celt, the farmer and Robinhood, Goody Blake 
and Harry Gill, in most parts of the world the prince 
and the peasant, the scholar and the savage, equally re¬ 
quire still a few sticks from the forest to warm them and 
cook their food. Neither could I do without them. 
Every man looks at his wood-pile with a kind of af¬ 
fection. I loved to have mine before my window, and 
the more chips the better to remind me of my pleasing 
work. I had an old axe which nobody claimed, with 
which by spells in winter days, on the sunny side of the 
house, I played about the stumps which I had got out of 
my bean-field. As my driver prophesied when I was 
ploughing, they warmed me twice, once while I was split¬ 
ting them, and again when they were on the fire, so that 
no fuel could give out more heat. As for the axe, I was 
advised to get the village blacksmith to “jump ” it; but 
I jumped him, and, putting a hickory helve from the 
woods into it, made it do. If it was dull, it was at least 
hung true. 
A few pieces of fat pine were a great treasure. It is 
interesting to remember how much of this food for fire 
is still concealed in the bowels of the earth. In pre¬ 
vious years I had often gone “ prospecting ” over some 
