ong avenue, his figure appears too dim and
remote to disturb the sense of blissful seclusion. Few, indeed, are the
mortals who venture within our sacred precincts. George Prescott, who
has not yet grown earthly enough, I suppose, to be debarred from
occasional visits to Paradise, comes daily to bring three pints of milk
from some ambrosial cow; occasionally, also, he makes an offering of
mortal flowers. Mr. Emerson comes sometimes, and has been feasted on our
nectar and ambrosia. Mr. Thoreau has twice listened to the music of the
spheres, which, for our private convenience, we have packed into a
musical box. E---- H----, who is much more at home among spirits than
among fleshly bodies, came hither a few times, merely to welcome us to
the ethereal world; but latterly she has vanished into some other region
of infinite space. One rash mortal, on the second Sunday after our
arrival, obtruded himself upon us in a gig. There have since been three
or four callers, who preposterously think that the courtesies of the
lower world are to be responded to by people whose home is in Paradise.
I must not forget to mention that the butcher comes twice or thrice a
week; and we have so far improved upon the custom of Adam and Eve, that
we generally furnish forth our feasts with portions of some delicate
calf or lamb, whose unspotted innocence entitles them to the happiness
of becoming our sustenance. Would that I were permitted to record the
celestial dainties that kind Heaven provided for us on the first day of
our arrival! Never, surely, was such food heard of on earth,--at least,
not by me. Well, the above-mentioned persons are nearly all that have
entered into the hallowed shade of our avenue; except, indeed, a certain
sinner who came to bargain for the grass in our orchard, and another who
came with a new cistern. For it is one of the drawbacks upon our Eden
that it contains no water fit either to drink or to bathe in; so that
the showers have become, in good truth, a godsend. I wonder why
Providence does not cause a clear, cold fountain to bubble up at our
doorstep; methinks it would not be unreasonable to pray for such a
favor. At present we are under the ridiculous necessity of sending to
the outer world for water. Only imagine Adam trudging out of Paradise
with a bucket in each hand, to get water to drink, or for Eve to bathe
in! Intolerable! (though our stout handmaiden really fetches our water).
In other respects Providence has