The 7th, 8th, and 9th, the State muster is held here. The only observation I have to make is that [Concord] is fuller of dust and more uninhabitable than I ever knew it to be before. Not only the walls, fences, and houses are thickly covered with dust, but the fields and meadows and bushes; and the pads in the river for half a mile from the village are white with it. From a mile or two distant you see a cloud of dust over the town and extending thence to the muster-field. I went to the store the other day to buy a bolt for our front door, for, as I told the storekeeper, the Governor was coming here. “Aye,” said he, “and the Legislature too.” “Then I will take two bolts,” said I. He said that there had been a steady demand for bolts and locks of late, for our protectors were coming. The surface of the roads for three to six inches in depth is a light and dry powder like ashes.
2 comments:
I just want to congratulate you on the blog turning one year old. As an avid reader of Thoreau, I have enjoyed your contribution to the blogosphere immensely. It has been a joy to read these insights from Thoreau's journal on a daily basis. I look forward to the Thoreau "repeats." Thank you.
showman60, I had a similar reaction when I re-read this excerpt. Very apt.
Mark,
Thanks much. I'm glad you've enjoyed. I'm missing the daily plunge into the Journals, and I'm sure at some time, I'll do some network premiers again.
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