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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com-Walden by Henry David Thoreau


ravines bridged and passable at all seasons, where the public heel
had testified to their utility.

I have looked after the wild stock of the town, which give a faithful
herdsman a good deal of trouble by leaping fences; and I have had
an eye to the unfrequented nooks and corners of the farm; though I
did not always know whether Jonas or Solomon worked in a
particular field today; that was none of my busi-

ness. I have watered the red huckleberry, the sand cherry and the
nettle-tree, the red pine and the black ash, the white grape and the
yellow violet, which might have withered else in dry seasons.

In short, I went on thus for a long time (I may say it without
boasting), faithfully minding my business, till it became more and
more evident that my townsmen would not after all admit me into
the list of town officers, nor make my place a sinecure with a
moderate allowance. My accounts, which I can swear to have kept
faithfully, I have, indeed, never got audited, still less accepted, still
less paid and settled. However, I have not set my heart on that.

Not long since, a strolling Indian went to sell baskets at the house of
a well-known lawyer in my neighborhood. "Do you wish to buy any
baskets?" he asked. "No, we do not want any," was the reply.
"What!" exclaimed the Indian as he went out the gate, "do you mean
to starve us?" Having seen his industrious white neighbors so well
off-that the lawyer had only to weave arguments, and, by some
magic, wealth and standing followed-he had said to himself: I will
go into business; I will weave baskets; it is a thing which I can do.
Thinking that when he had made the baskets he would have done his
part, and then it would be the white man’s to buy them. He had not
discovered that it was necessary for him to make it worth the other’s
while to buy them, or at least make him think that it was so, or to
make something else which it would be worth his while to buy. I too
had woven a kind of basket of a delicate texture, but I had not made
it worth any one’s while to buy them. Yet not the less, in my case,
did I think it worth my while to weave them, and instead of studying
how to make it worth men’s while to buy my baskets, I studied
rather how to avoid the necessity of selling them. The life which
men praise and regard as successful is but one kind. Why should we
exaggerate any one kind at the expense of the others?

Finding that my fellow-citizens were not likely to offer me any room
in the court house, or any curacy or living anywhere else, but I must
shift for myself, I turned my face more exclusively than ever to the
woods, where I was better known. I determined to go into business at
once, and not wait to acquire the usual capital, using such slender
means as I had already got. My purpose in going to Walden Pond
was not to live cheaply nor to live dearly there, but to transact some
private business with the fewest obstacles; to be hindered from
accomplishing which for want of a little common sense, a little
enterprise and business talent, appeared not so sad as foolish.

I have always endeavored to acquire strict business habits; they are
indispensable to every man. If your trade is with the Celestial
Empire, then some small counting house on the coast, in some Salem
harbor, will be fixture enough. You will export such articles as the
country affords, purely native products, much ice and pine timber
and a little granite, always in native bottoms. These will be good
ventures. To oversee all the details yourself in person; to be at once
pilot and captain, and owner and underwriter; to buy and sell and
keep the accounts; to read every letter received, and write or read
every letter sent; to superintend the dis-charge of imports night and
day; to be upon many parts of the coast almost at the same time-
often the richest freight will be discharged upon a Jersey shore;- to
be your own telegraph, unweariedly sweeping the horizon, speaking
all passing vessels bound coastwise; to keep up a steady despatch of
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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com-Walden by Henry David Thoreau



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