Both the old school and the new school remained closed even after the
cholera ceased to thin out the citizens, but I felt no further
interest in the education of youth. When winter came I tramped three
miles into the forest, and began to fell trees and split rails in
order to fence in my suburban estate. For some time I carried a
rifle, and besides various small game I shot two deer, but neither of
them would wait for me to come up with them even after I had shot
them; they took my two bullets away with them, and left me only a few
drops of blood on the snow; then I left the rifle at home. For about
four months the ground was covered with snow, and the cold was
intense, but I continued splitting until the snakes came out to bask
in the sun and warm themselves. I saw near a dead log eight coiled
together, and I killed them all. The juice of the sugar maples began
to run. I cut notches in the bark in the shape of a broad arrow,
bored a hole at the point, inserted a short spout of bark, and on
sunny mornings the juice flowed in a regular stream, clear and
sparkling; on cloudy days it only dropped.

One evening as I was plodding my weary way homeward, I looked up and
saw in the distance a man inspecting my cellar. I said, "Here's
another disgusting fool who ain't seen it before." It certainly was
a peculiar cellar, but not worth looking at so much. I hated the
sight of it. It had no building over it, never was roofed in, and
was sometimes full of snow.

The other fool proved to be Mr. Curtis, the teacher who had written
the resolution of the meeting which voted me out of the school. He
held out his hand, and I took it, but reluctantly, and under secret
protest. I thought to myself, "This mine enemy has an axe to grind,
or he would not be here. I'll be on my guard."