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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 121 [08-17-1861]

              112
	     Pine Pond again.
shine, went through a field or two into the
wood, where the pines and hemlocks, the maples
firs and varieties of oak-trees grew thick, and
the undergrowth was full of wild-flowers and blood-
red squaw-berries; as my companions designated 
them from their use by the Indians.   A descent of 
a sloping, wooded bank brought us to the margin
of the lake.          It looked perfectly familiar to me;
my visit three years ago might have been yester-
day, for all the change I saw.   The water-
lilies with their broad, green leaves and pure,
wan-like flowers; the half-submerged trees and 
driftwood; the mosses; the reeds, the rushes, near
the shore; the distant bank with its dead trees
sentinelling the green, glad
forest; the leaping, sparkling sunny water, with
its God-given wealth of color and beauty � I knew
and loved its every feature.       Meantime the mus-
kitoes bit us considerably.       We beheld our friends
in the distant boats and shouted to them, and after
due time they came, paddling up to us, in the same
old boats in use three years ago.   They had two of
them, two strangers on the lake occupying a third.
Robinson Smilie (on whom we called when going to
visit Arthur Tew) was of the party, the Tews and
George having taken him up by the way.  Then en-
sued a debate as to whom should re-enter the boats.               
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