Lab
Library
Journal
Shop
Sign in
to keep
1
137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
17
Thoreau
has
been
my
companion
for
some
days
past,
it
having
struck
me
as
more
appropriate
to
bring
him
out
to
a
pond
than
to
read
him,
as
was
hitherto
my
habit,
on
Sunday
mornings
in
the
garden.
He
is
a
person
who
loves
the
open
air,
and
will
refuse
to
give
you
much
pleasure
if
you
try
to
read
him
amid
the
pomp
and
circumstance
of
upholstery;
but
out
in
the
sun,
and
especially
by
this
pond,
he
is
delightful,
and
we
spend
the
happiest
hours
together,
he
making
statements,
and
I
either
agreeing
heartily,
or
just
laughing
and
reserving
my
opinion
till
I
shall
have
more
ripely
considered
the
thing.
He,
of
course,
does
not
like
me
as
much
as
I
like
him,
because
I
live
in
a
cloud
of
dust
and
germs
produced
by
wilful
superfluity
of
furniture,
and
have
not
the
courage
to
get
a
match
and
set
light
to
it:
and
every
day
he
sees
the
door-mat
on
which
I
wipe
my
shoes
on
going
into
the
house,
in
defiance
of
his
having
told
me
that
he
had
once
refused
the
offer
of
one
on
the
ground
that
it
is
best
to
avoid
even
the
beginnings
of
evil.
But
my
philosophy
has
not
yet
reached
the
acute
stage
that
will
enable
me
to
see
a
door-mat
in
its
true
character
as
a
hinderer
of
the
development
of
souls,
and
I
like
to
wipe
my
shoes.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
