I my c  of my

    nest.  My days  days of tamp of any

    y, nor o ted by the

    ticking of a clock; for I lived like t is

    said t quot;for yesterday, today, and tomorrohey have only one

    y of meaning by pointing backward

    for yesterday foromorrow, and overhe passing

    day.quot;  to my felloo; but

    if tried me by tandard, I should

    not ing.  A man must find his occasions in

    is true.  tural day is very calm, and will hardly

    reprove his indolence.

    I age, at least, in my mode of life, over those

    , to society and the

    tre, t my life itself  and never

    ceased to be novel.  It  an

    end.  If ting our living, and regulating

    our lives according to t and best mode we had learned, we

    sroubled h ennui.  Follow your genius closely

    enoug  fail to s every

    pastime.  y, I

    rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass,

    bed and bedstead making but one budget, daser on the floor,

    and sprinkled , and th a broom

    scrubbed it clean and ime the villagers had

    broken t tly to

    alloo move in again, and my meditations

    uninterupted.  It  to see my

    on ttle pile like a gypsys pack, and my

    table, from he books and pen

    and ink, standing amid to

    get out to be brought in.  I was

    sometimes tempted to stretcake my seat

    t o see things,

    and eresting most

    familiar obje