In their view, we were as poetical as Arcadians, besides being as practical as the hardest fisted husbandmen in Massachusetts. We did not, it is true, spend much time in piping to our sheep, or warbling our innocent loves to the sisterhood. But they gave us credit for imbuing the ordinary rustic occupations with a kind of religious poetry, insomuch that our very cow yards and pig sties were as delightfully fragrant as a flower garden.
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