[Campton—Monday, 11 June 1866]
June 11th the finest day since last June! Past [sic] the morning partly over Gerald Massey’s book on Shakspeare’s Sonnets, partly by the river side where the hours flew away before we guessed what they were doing. The wild hydrangea and Solomon’s seal and lily are abloom among the earliest flowers and violets too, but meadow rue and the rest are far away in the adolescent period.
Yesterday afternoon we climbed to the very top of Willey’s hill, we saw the sun go down while we were still near the summit, filling the hills with purple mist and crowning their heights with brightness. What a Sunday evening!
The streams are fuller than we have often seen them, they chatter musically all the time.
This afternoon we drove to Sanborn’s Inn and wandered about there awhile in the golden afternoon. Two boys were fishing for trout in a full blue pond near by where logs were floating near the shore. We sat on a log on the brink and watched their agility in springing from one log to another in the water with utter fearlessness of slipping—no trout as yet, they told us, in answer to our inquiries. Returning to the Inn again we jumped into our open wagon and drove to Farmer Avery’s, we met him just below his house. He walked by the side of the wagon talking as we went. “My wife sed someone called and giv’ their name—now d’ye know anybody by that name, ses she, but whoever t’was I was ashamed of myself I looked so, jest out of the wash tub.” In answer to our remarks about the beauty of his place he said, “Wull I don no as I should find a place I should like better, but I’m most tired of working so hard, and we can’t take boarders (the refuge of all the people up here now) for we’ve lost our girls and my wife will do all the work alone, she won’t have anybody to help her now, & it’s too much.”
I asked if we might be allowed to descend the green slope back of his house and see the place. He was pleased to show us the way. We descended the path the ox team had broken through an exquisite woodland path! Such a place! It was a paradise; the mountains opened before us, the meadow and river below & around while magnificent rocks bordered the descent. We could not but think what an estate this could be, what a magnificent residence comparing with some of the finest in Europe in natural features. When we returned, he met us and said he would like to sell his place and try an easier life (the old story, alas! for human contentment) for the remainder of his days. He said there were 120 acres of land with the buildings and he would sell the whole for $3000!!!
Think of it, a patriarchal domain for $180 per annum.
The north-west wind blew strongly and quite cold this afternoon.
