Canibridgeport, a total stranger to me, . . . . and each rubbed bis hands with pretended horror but real delight, if I named a higher figure than he had yet heard. It was plain that one object which the cold was given us for was our amusement, a passing excitement. It would be perfectly consistent and American to bet on the cold of our respective towns for the morning that is to come. Thus a greater degree of cold may be said to warm us more than a less one. This is a perfectly legitimate amusement, only we should know that each day is peculiar and has its kindred excitements.
In those wet days like the 12th and 15th, when the browns culminated, the sun being concealed, I was drawn towards and worshipped the brownish light in the sod, the withered grass, etc., on barren hills. I felt as if I could eat the very crust of the earth, I never felt so terrene, never sympathized so with the surface of the earth. From whatever source the light and heat come, thither we look with love.
March 19, 1860. Going along the turnpike I look over to the pitch pines on Moore's hillside, and it strikes me that this pine, take the year round, is the most cheerful tree and most living to look at and have about your house, it is so sunny and full of light, in harmony with the yellow sand there and the spring sun. The
