Saturday, September 6, 2014

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Years ago, when the "Philosophers," as the guides called them, camped in the Adirondacks, one member of the party occasioned a good deal of criticism. He devoted himself to reading and "worthless writin’" thus, in the opinion of the guides, wasting time which might have been better spent in hunting and fishing. He was Ralph Waldo Emerson.

There was one guide who recognized in Emerson something of his real worth, and upon whom the poet made a great impression. "Steve," as he was familiarly called, was an observing man, and the poet's physical defects, then undoubtedly more prominent than in later years, did not escape his eye, as may be seen from the answer he gave to the question of the writer of this paragraph: "What kind of a fellow was Emerson?" "Wal, sir,' said the old guide, "he was a gentleman every inch as nice a fellow as you ever see; pleasant and kind, and a scholar too, allus figgerin', studyin', and writin'; but, sir he was, I believe, the all-firedest homeliest critter for his age that ever came into these woods."

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