Thoreau writes in his journal:
I have for years had a great deal of trouble with my shoe-strings, because they get untied continually. They are leather, rolled and tied in a hard knot. But some days I could hardly go twenty rods before I was obliged to stop and stoop to tie my shoes . . .
Those New-Hampshire-like pastures near Asa Melvin’s are covered or dotted with bunches of indigo . . .