Note 10 — XX

“Blessed is he whose youth was passed upon a farm,” writes Mr. Burroughs; “and if it was a dairy farm his memories will be all the more fragrant. The driving of the cows to and from the pasture every day and every season for years,—how much of summer and of nature he got into him on these journeys! What rambles and excursions did this errand furnish the excuse for! The birds and birds’ nests, the berries, the squirrels, the woodchucks, the beech woods into which the cows loved so to wander and browse, the fragrant wintergreens, and a hundred nameless adventures, all strung upon that brief journey of half a mile to and from the remote pasture.”