the Thoreau Log.
17 November 1855. Concord, Mass.

Thoreau writes in his journal:

  Just after dark the first snow is falling, after a chilly afternoon with cold gray clouds, when
my hands were uncomfortably cold . . .

  It is interesting to me to talk with Rice, he lives so thoroughly and satisfactorily to himself . . .

  Saw Goodwin this morning returning from the river with minks, one trapped, the other shot, and half a dozen muskrats.

(Journal, 8:26-28)

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