Stowe notes, letters and verses . t of Canada he came from, however, was colder, hethought. He went on to extol the benefit of open air; hesaid he was poorly as a child, from five to fifteen wasrecruiting up, at his sixteenth year took to wood-chopping, and ever since had been as tough as abar. TO HIS MOTHER Stowe, December 7, other day I rode down to the village on the woodsledge. It was rather fun. Although we had a chain onthe runners to serve as a brake, the horses were pushedalong at quite a lively pace, bucking and kicking in theirendeavors to hold back the load. We went to the
Stowe notes, letters and verses . t of Canada he came from, however, was colder, hethought. He went on to extol the benefit of open air; hesaid he was poorly as a child, from five to fifteen wasrecruiting up, at his sixteenth year took to wood-chopping, and ever since had been as tough as abar. TO HIS MOTHER Stowe, December 7, other day I rode down to the village on the woodsledge. It was rather fun. Although we had a chain onthe runners to serve as a brake, the horses were pushedalong at quite a lively pace, bucking and kicking in theirendeavors to hold back the load. We went to the grist-mill for some corn meal, and stopped also at Mr. Strawsto encourage him to finish the windows. Everybody hadon the most delightful costumes. There was one old manat the mill in an old sealskin cap and a coonskin coat,who was a very lovely specimen. Mr. Lovejoy (whoruns the mill) came out to speak to Mr, Cobb, his rubi-cund countenance done up in a blue checked handker-chief. /: v*viA. //v-^ 7 lit// c^ -Ot <r <r^.. LETTERS 227 December 8. I take the keenest delight in Hans Christian his feel it is what one ought never to be without; as essen-tial, almost, as Shakespeare. There is a little flock of blue jays continually aroundthe grain house, tapping at the walls like woodpeckers,until the indignant squirrels burst out of the cracks andcrannies and disperse them. This morning I went into the sugar-wood andsketched for an hour. The air was warm and balmy,very spring-like, the mountains in a haze. The snow inthe wood was crossed and recrossed by the prints ofsquirrels feet. TO HIS SISTER Stowe, December 9, the way, if you want an uncanny set of verses,something in the style of those you sent me, why dontyou read The Lykewake Dirge, or death-watch dirge,in William Allinghams Ballad Book ? For so simplea ditty, it seems to possess considerable hair-lifting pow-ers. Perhaps it may not affect you so; you ought to besitting alone at night in a farmhouse,
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