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The Ponds

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Sometimes, having had a surfeit of human society and gossip, and

worn out all my village friends, I rambled still farther westward

than I habitually dwell, into yet more unfrequented parts of the

town, "to fresh woods and pastures new," or, while the sun was

setting, made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair

Haven Hill, and laid up a store for several days. The fruits do not

yield their true flavor to the purchaser of them, nor to him who

raises them for the market. There is but one way to obtain it, yet

few take that way. If you would know the flavor of huckleberries,

ask the cowboy or the partridge. It is a vulgar error to suppose

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