t regret that the comparatively impure
waters of Flint's Pond should be mingled with it, or itself should ever
go to waste its sweetness in the ocean wave?

Flint's, or Sandy Pond, in Lincoln, our greatest lake and inland sea,
lies about a mile east of Walden. It is much larger, being said to
contain one hundred and ninety-seven acres, and is more fertile in fish;
but it is comparatively shallow, and not remarkably pure. A walk through
the woods thither was often my recreation. It was worth the while, if
only to feel the wind blow on your cheek freely, and see the waves run,
and remember the life of mariners. I went a-chestnutting there in the
fall, on windy days, when the nuts were dropping into the water and were
washed to my feet; and one day, as I crept along its sedgy shore, the
fresh spray blowing in my face, I came upon the mouldering wreck of a
boat, the sides gone, and hardly more than the impression of its flat
bottom left amid the rushes; yet its model was sharply defined, as if it
were a large decayed pad, with its veins. It was as impressive a wreck
as one could imagine on the seashore, and had as good a moral. It is by
this time mere vegetable mould and undistinguishable pond shore, through
which rushes and flags have pushed up. I used to admire the ripple marks
on the sandy bottom, at the north end of this pond, made firm and hard
to the feet of the wader by the pressure of the water, and the rushes
which grew in Indian file, in waving lines, corresponding to these
marks, rank behind rank, as if the waves had planted them. There also
I have found, in considerable quantities, curious balls, composed
apparently of fine grass or roots, of pipewort perhaps, from half an
inch to four inches in diameter, and perfectly spherical. These wash
back and forth in shallow water on a sandy bottom, and are sometimes
cast on the shore. They are either solid grass, or have a little sand in
the middle. At first you would say that they were formed by the action
of the waves, like a pebble; yet the smallest are made of equally coarse
materials, half an inch long, and they are produced only at one season
of the year. Moreover, the waves, I suspect, do not so much construct
as wear down a material which has already acquired consistency. They
preserve their form when dry for an indefinite period.

Flint's Pond! Such is the poverty of our nomenclature. What right had
the unclean and stupid farmer, whose farm abutted on this sky