Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau
Part 37
2181 words | Chapter 37
with the bark on high overhead. My house never pleased my eye
so much after it was plastered, though I was obliged to confess that it
was more comfortable. Should not every apartment in which man dwells be
lofty enough to create some obscurity over-head, where flickering
shadows may play at evening about the rafters? These forms are more
agreeable to the fancy and imagination than fresco paintings or other
the most expensive furniture. I now first began to inhabit my house, I
may say, when I began to use it for warmth as well as shelter. I had
got a couple of old fire-dogs to keep the wood from the hearth, and it
did me good to see the soot form on the back of the chimney which I had
built, and I poked the fire with more right and more satisfaction than
usual. My dwelling was small, and I could hardly entertain an echo in
it; but it seemed larger for being a single apartment and remote from
neighbors. All the attractions of a house were concentrated in one
room; it was kitchen, chamber, parlor, and keeping-room; and whatever
satisfaction parent or child, master or servant, derive from living in
a house, I enjoyed it all. Cato says, the master of a family
(_patremfamilias_) must have in his rustic villa “cellam oleariam,
vinariam, dolia multa, uti lubeat caritatem expectare, et rei, et
virtuti, et gloriæ erit,” that is, “an oil and wine cellar, many casks,
so that it may be pleasant to expect hard times; it will be for his
advantage, and virtue, and glory.” I had in my cellar a firkin of
potatoes, about two quarts of peas with the weevil in them, and on my
shelf a little rice, a jug of molasses, and of rye and Indian meal a
peck each.
I sometimes dream of a larger and more populous house, standing in a
golden age, of enduring materials, and without ginger-bread work, which
shall still consist of only one room, a vast, rude, substantial,
primitive hall, without ceiling or plastering, with bare rafters and
purlins supporting a sort of lower heaven over one’s head,—useful to
keep off rain and snow; where the king and queen posts stand out to
receive your homage, when you have done reverence to the prostrate
Saturn of an older dynasty on stepping over the sill; a cavernous
house, wherein you must reach up a torch upon a pole to see the roof;
where some may live in the fire-place, some in the recess of a window,
and some on settles, some at one end of the hall, some at another, and
some aloft on rafters with the spiders, if they choose; a house which
you have got into when you have opened the outside door, and the
ceremony is over; where the weary traveller may wash, and eat, and
converse, and sleep, without further journey; such a shelter as you
would be glad to reach in a tempestuous night, containing all the
essentials of a house, and nothing for house-keeping; where you can see
all the treasures of the house at one view, and every thing hangs upon
its peg, that a man should use; at once kitchen, pantry, parlor,
chamber, store-house, and garret; where you can see so necessary a
thing as a barrel or a ladder, so convenient a thing as a cupboard, and
hear the pot boil, and pay your respects to the fire that cooks your
dinner and the oven that bakes your bread, and the necessary furniture
and utensils are the chief ornaments; where the washing is not put out,
nor the fire, nor the mistress, and perhaps you are sometimes requested
to move from off the trap-door, when the cook would descend into the
cellar, and so learn whether the ground is solid or hollow beneath you
without stamping. A house whose inside is as open and manifest as a
bird’s nest, and you cannot go in at the front door and out at the back
without seeing some of its inhabitants; where to be a guest is to be
presented with the freedom of the house, and not to be carefully
excluded from seven eighths of it, shut up in a particular cell, and
told to make yourself at home there,—in solitary confinement. Nowadays
the host does not admit you to _his_ hearth, but has got the mason to
build one for yourself somewhere in his alley, and hospitality is the
art of _keeping_ you at the greatest distance. There is as much secrecy
about the cooking as if he had a design to poison you. I am aware that
I have been on many a man’s premises, and might have been legally
ordered off, but I am not aware that I have been in many men’s houses.
I might visit in my old clothes a king and queen who lived simply in
such a house as I have described, if I were going their way; but
backing out of a modern palace will be all that I shall desire to
learn, if ever I am caught in one.
It would seem as if the very language of our parlors would lose all its
nerve and degenerate into _palaver_ wholly, our lives pass at such
remoteness from its symbols, and its metaphors and tropes are
necessarily so far fetched, through slides and dumb-waiters, as it
were; in other words, the parlor is so far from the kitchen and
workshop. The dinner even is only the parable of a dinner, commonly. As
if only the savage dwelt near enough to Nature and Truth to borrow a
trope from them. How can the scholar, who dwells away in the North West
Territory or the Isle of Man, tell what is parliamentary in the
kitchen?
However, only one or two of my guests were ever bold enough to stay and
eat a hasty-pudding with me; but when they saw that crisis approaching
they beat a hasty retreat rather, as if it would shake the house to its
foundations. Nevertheless, it stood through a great many
hasty-puddings.
I did not plaster till it was freezing weather. I brought over some
whiter and cleaner sand for this purpose from the opposite shore of the
pond in a boat, a sort of conveyance which would have tempted me to go
much farther if necessary. My house had in the mean while been shingled
down to the ground on every side. In lathing I was pleased to be able
to send home each nail with a single blow of the hammer, and it was my
ambition to transfer the plaster from the board to the wall neatly and
rapidly. I remembered the story of a conceited fellow, who, in fine
clothes, was wont to lounge about the village once, giving advice to
workmen. Venturing one day to substitute deeds for words, he turned up
his cuffs, seized a plasterer’s board, and having loaded his trowel
without mishap, with a complacent look toward the lathing overhead,
made a bold gesture thitherward; and straightway, to his complete
discomfiture, received the whole contents in his ruffled bosom. I
admired anew the economy and convenience of plastering, which so
effectually shuts out the cold and takes a handsome finish, and I
learned the various casualties to which the plasterer is liable. I was
surprised to see how thirsty the bricks were which drank up all the
moisture in my plaster before I had smoothed it, and how many pailfuls
of water it takes to christen a new hearth. I had the previous winter
made a small quantity of lime by burning the shells of the _Unio
fluviatilis_, which our river affords, for the sake of the experiment;
so that I knew where my materials came from. I might have got good
limestone within a mile or two and burned it myself, if I had cared to
do so.
The pond had in the mean while skimmed over in the shadiest and
shallowest coves, some days or even weeks before the general freezing.
The first ice is especially interesting and perfect, being hard, dark,
and transparent, and affords the best opportunity that ever offers for
examining the bottom where it is shallow; for you can lie at your
length on ice only an inch thick, like a skater insect on the surface
of the water, and study the bottom at your leisure, only two or three
inches distant, like a picture behind a glass, and the water is
necessarily always smooth then. There are many furrows in the sand
where some creature has travelled about and doubled on its tracks; and,
for wrecks, it is strewn with the cases of cadis worms made of minute
grains of white quartz. Perhaps these have creased it, for you find
some of their cases in the furrows, though they are deep and broad for
them to make. But the ice itself is the object of most interest, though
you must improve the earliest opportunity to study it. If you examine
it closely the morning after it freezes, you find that the greater part
of the bubbles, which at first appeared to be within it, are against
its under surface, and that more are continually rising from the
bottom; while the ice is as yet comparatively solid and dark, that is,
you see the water through it. These bubbles are from an eightieth to an
eighth of an inch in diameter, very clear and beautiful, and you see
your face reflected in them through the ice. There may be thirty or
forty of them to a square inch. There are also already within the ice
narrow oblong perpendicular bubbles about half an inch long, sharp
cones with the apex upward; or oftener, if the ice is quite fresh,
minute spherical bubbles one directly above another, like a string of
beads. But these within the ice are not so numerous nor obvious as
those beneath. I sometimes used to cast on stones to try the strength
of the ice, and those which broke through carried in air with them,
which formed very large and conspicuous white bubbles beneath. One day
when I came to the same place forty-eight hours afterward, I found that
those large bubbles were still perfect, though an inch more of ice had
formed, as I could see distinctly by the seam in the edge of a cake.
But as the last two days had been very warm, like an Indian summer, the
ice was not now transparent, showing the dark green color of the water,
and the bottom, but opaque and whitish or gray, and though twice as
thick was hardly stronger than before, for the air bubbles had greatly
expanded under this heat and run together, and lost their regularity;
they were no longer one directly over another, but often like silvery
coins poured from a bag, one overlapping another, or in thin flakes, as
if occupying slight cleavages. The beauty of the ice was gone, and it
was too late to study the bottom. Being curious to know what position
my great bubbles occupied with regard to the new ice, I broke out a
cake containing a middling sized one, and turned it bottom upward. The
new ice had formed around and under the bubble, so that it was included
between the two ices. It was wholly in the lower ice, but close against
the upper, and was flattish, or perhaps slightly lenticular, with a
rounded edge, a quarter of an inch deep by four inches in diameter; and
I was surprised to find that directly under the bubble the ice was
melted with great regularity in the form of a saucer reversed, to the
height of five eighths of an inch in the middle, leaving a thin
partition there between the water and the bubble, hardly an eighth of
an inch thick; and in many places the small bubbles in this partition
had burst out downward, and probably there was no ice at all under the
largest bubbles, which were a foot in diameter. I inferred that the
infinite number of minute bubbles which I had first seen against the
under surface of the ice were now frozen in likewise, and that each, in
its degree, had operated like a burning glass on the ice beneath to
melt and rot it. These are the little air-guns which contribute to make
the ice crack and whoop.
At length the winter set in in good earnest, just as I had finished
plastering, and the wind began to howl around the house as if it had
not had permission to do so till then. Night after night the geese came
lumbering in in the dark with a clangor and a whistling of wings, even
after the ground was covered with snow, some to alight in Walden, and
some flying low over the woods toward Fair Haven, bound for Mexico.
Several times, when returning from the village at ten or eleven o’clock
at night, I heard the
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