the plank bridge behind the hill which have been buried so long, are suddenly uncovered, as if we had returned to our earth after an absence and took pleasure in finding things so nearly in the state in which we left them. We go out without overcoats, saunter along the street, look at the aments of the willow beginning to appear, and the swelling buds of the maple and the elm. The Great Meadows are water instead of ice. I see the ice on the bottom in white sheets.
Most men find farming unprofitable. But there are some who can get their living anywhere. If you set them down on a bare rock, they will thrive there. The true farmer is to those that come after him and take the benefit of his improvements like the lichen which plants itself on the bare rock and grows and thrives and cracks it, making vegetable mould for the garden vegetables which are to grow in it.
March 15, 1854. I am sorry to think that you do not get a man's most effective criticism until you provoke him. Severe truth is expressed with some bitterness.
March 15, 1855. Mr. Rice tells me that when he was getting mud out of the little swamp at the foot of Brister's Hill he heard a squeaking and found that he was digging into
