72 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
dared that we did not live in the country as 
long as we lived in that village street and only 
took walks into the fields, any more than if we 
lived in Boston or New York. We enjoyed 
none of the immortal quiet of the country as 
we might here, for instance, but, perchance, the 
first sound that we hear in the morning, in¬ 
stead of the note of a bird, is some neighbor’s 
hawking and spitting. 
March 6, 1840. There is no delay in an¬ 
swering great questions; for them all things 
have an answer ready. The Pythian priestess 
gave her answers instantly, and ofttimes before 
the questions were fairly propounded. Great 
topics do not wait for past or future to be de¬ 
termined ; but the state of the crops or Brighton 
market, no bird concerns itself about. 
March 6, 1841. An honest misunderstand- 
ing is often the ground of future intercourse. 
March 6, 1853. p. M. To Lee’s Hill. I am 
pleased to cut the small woods with my knife 
to see their color. The high blueberry, hazel, 
and swamp pink are green. I love to see the 
clear green sprouts of the sassafras, and its 
large and fragrant buds and bark. The twigs 
and branches of young trees twenty feet high 
look as if scorched and blackened. 
The water is pretty high on the meadows 
(though the ground is covered with snow) so 
