Green fields and whispering woods; or, The recreations of an American "country gentleman"; embracing journeys over his farm and excursions into his library . and those who come;Good-bye, proud world, Im going home! That sounds very pretty, observed the Squire ratherironically. Is that all there is of it ? No, replied I, for I was now in great good humor; andaccordingly I went back and proceeded to give em the firststanza: Good-bye, proud world! Im going home; Thourt not my friend, and Im not thine;Long through thy weary crowds Ive roamed, A river ark on the ocean brine;Long Ive been tossed lik
Green fields and whispering woods; or, The recreations of an American "country gentleman"; embracing journeys over his farm and excursions into his library . and those who come;Good-bye, proud world, Im going home! That sounds very pretty, observed the Squire ratherironically. Is that all there is of it ? No, replied I, for I was now in great good humor; andaccordingly I went back and proceeded to give em the firststanza: Good-bye, proud world! Im going home; Thourt not my friend, and Im not thine;Long through thy weary crowds Ive roamed, A river ark on the ocean brine;Long Ive been tossed like the driven foam,—But now, proud world, Im going home! Im going to my own hearth-stone,Bosomed in yon green hills alone,— * Sandhills! interrupted my father; and then he quoted: Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,And robes the mountain in its verdant hue. But I went right on: A secret nook in a pleasant land! Better keep it a secret, growled the old Squire, impa-tiently. Still I drove away at Emersons rhyme: Whose groves the frolic fairies planned;Where arches green, the live-long day,Echo the blackbirds roundelay,— 3fAD AS A HORNET. 77. Blackbirds! exclaimed my father,—for the boys nowevidently meant to dam this flood of verse,— blackbirds! cried he; you cant raise any corn there! I did not mean to be bluffed off so easily, and continued : And vulgar feet have never trod— Tom must go on your hands and knees, laughed theSquire, leering at my well-worn sandals. Well, gentlemen, if you want any more poetry to-day,just find it for yourselves, I said, rising here with dignityand walking down the street toward the office. Mad as a hornet! I heard my father observe in anundertone after I had started. Haw ! haw ! haw ! The reader will readily accountfor that. But I kept right on, looking neither to the rightnor to the left. The discussion, however, was good-humoredly resumedat evening. To meet the objection raised by the Squirethat one who was naturally active, ch
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