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137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
18
Perhaps
if
I
had
to
live
with
few
servants,
or
if
it
were
possible,
short
of
existence
in
a
cave,
to
do
without
them
altogether,
I
should
also
do
without
door-mats,
and
probably
in
summer
without
shoes
too,
and
wipe
my
feet
on
the
grass
nature
no
doubt
provides
for
this
purpose;
and
meanwhile
we
know
that
though
he
went
to
the
woods,
Thoreau
came
back
again,
and
lived
for
the
rest
of
his
days
like
other
people.
During
his
life,
I
imagine
he
would
have
refused
to
notice
anything
so
fatiguing
as
an
ordinary
German
woman,
and
never
would
have
deigned
discourse
to
me
on
the
themes
he
loved
best;
but
now
his
spirit
belongs
to
me,
and
all
he
thought,
and
believed,
and
felt,
and
he
talks
as
much
and
as
intimately
to
me
here
in
my
solitude
as
ever
he
did
to
his
dearest
friends
years
ago
in
Concord.
In
the
garden
he
was
a
pleasant
companion,
but
in
the
lonely
dimple
he
is
fascinating,
and
the
morning
hours
hurry
past
at
a
quite
surprising
rate
when
he
is
with
me,
and
it
grieves
me
to
be
obliged
to
interrupt
him
in
the
middle
of
some
quaint
sentence
or
beautiful
thought
just
because
the
sun
is
touching
a
certain
bush
down
by
the
water's
edge,
which
is
a
sign
that
it
is
lunch-time
and
that
I
must
be
off.
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