I took down this dwelling the same morning， drawing the nails，and removed it to the pond-side by small cartloads， spreading the boards on the grass there to bleach and warp back again in the sun. One early thrush gave me a note or two as I drove along the woodland path.  I was informed treacherously by a young Patrick that neighbor Seeley， an Irishman， in the intervals of the carting， transferred the still tolerable， straight， and drivable nails， staples， and spikes to his pocket， and then stood when I came back to pass the time of day， and look freshly up， unconcerned， with spring thoughts，at the devastation； there being a dearth of work， as he said.  He was there to represent spectatordom， and help make this seemingly insignificant event one with the removal of the gods of Troy.

　　I dug my cellar in the side of a hill sloping to the south，where a woodchuck had formerly dug his burrow， down through sumach and blackberry roots， and the lowest stain of vegetation， six feet square by seven deep， to a fine sand where potatoes would not freeze in any winter.  The sides were left shelving， and not stoned； but the sun having never shone on them， the sand still keeps its place. It was but two hours' work.  I took particular pleasure in this breaking of ground， for in almost all latitudes men dig into the earth for an equable temperature.  Under the most splendid house in the city is still to be found the cellar where they store their roots as of old， and long after the superstructure has disappeared posterity remark its dent in the earth.  The house is still but a sort of porch at the entrance of a burrow.

　　At length， in the beginning of May， with the help of some of my acquaintances， rather to improve so good an occasion for neighborliness than from any necessity， I set up the frame of my house.  No man was ever more honored in the character of his raisers than I.  They are destined， I trust， to assist at the raising of loftier structures one day.  I began to occupy my house on the 4th of July， as soon as it was boarded and roofed， for the boards were carefully feather-edged and lapped， so that it was perfectly impervious to rain， but before boarding I laid the foundation of a chimney at one end， bringing two cartloads of stones up the hill from the pond in my arms.  I built the chimney after my hoeing in the fall， before a fire became necessary for warmth， doing my cooking in the meanwhile out of doors on the ground， early in the morning： which mode I still think is in some respects more convenient and agreeable than the usual one.  When it stormed before my bread was baked， I fixed a few boards over the fire， and sat under them to watch my loaf， and passed some pleasant hours in that way.  In those days， when my hands were much employed， I read but little， but the least scraps of paper which lay on the ground， my holder， or tablecloth， afforded me as much entertainment， in fact answered the same purpose as the Iliad.

　　It would be worth the while to build still more deliberately than I did， considering， for instance， what foundation a door， a window， a cellar， a garret， have in the nature of man， and perchance never raising any superstructure until we found a better reason for it than our temporal necessities even.  There is some of the same fitness in a man's building his own house that there is in a bird's building its own nest.  Who knows but if men constructed their dwellings with their own hands， and provided food for themselves and families simply and honestly enough， the poetic faculty would be universally developed， as birds universally sing when they are so engaged？  But alas！ we do like cowbirds and cuckoos， which lay their eggs in nests which other birds have built， and cheer no traveller with their chattering and unmusical notes.  Shall we forever resign the pleasure of construction to the carpenter？  What does architecture amount to in the experience of the mass of men？  I never in all my walks came across a man engaged in so simple and natural an occupation as building his house.  We belong to the community.  It is not the tailor alone who is the ninth part of a man； it is as much the preacher， and the merchant， and the farmer. Where is this division of labor to end？ and what object does it finally serve？  No doubt another may also think for me； but it is not therefore desirable that he should do so to the exclusion of my thinking for myself.

　　這同一天的早晨，我就拆卸這棚屋，拔下釘子，用小車把木板搬運到湖濱，放在草地上，讓太陽再把它們曬得發白并且恢復原來的形狀。一只早起的畫眉在我駕車經過林中小徑時，送來了一個兩個樂音。年輕人派屈里克卻惡意地告訴我，一個愛爾蘭鄰居叫西萊的，在裝車的間隙把還可以用的、直的、可以釘的釘子，騎馬釘和大釘放進了自己的口袋，等我回去重新抬起頭來，滿不在乎、全身春意盎然地看著那一堆廢墟的時候，他就站在那兒，正如他說的，沒有多少工作可做。他在那里代表觀眾，使這瑣屑不足道的事情看上去更像是特洛伊城眾神的撤離。

　　我在一處向南傾斜的小山腰上挖掘了我的地窖，那里一只土撥鼠也曾經挖過它的丘穴，我挖去了漆樹和黑毒的根，及植物的最下面的痕跡，六英尺見方，七英尺深，直挖到一片良好的沙地，冬天再怎么冷，土豆也決不會凍壞了。它的周圍是漸次傾斜的，并沒有砌上石塊；但太陽從沒有照到它，因此沒有沙粒流下來。這只不過兩小時的工作。

　　我對于破土特別感到興趣，差不多在所有的緯度上，人們只消挖掘到地下去，都能得到均一的溫度。在城市中，最豪華的住宅里也還是可以找到地窖的，他們在里面埋藏他們的塊根植物，像古人那樣，將來即使上層建筑完全頹毀，很久以后，后代人還能發現它留在地皮上的凹痕。所謂房屋，還只不過是地洞入口處的一些門面而已。

　　最后，在五月初，由我的一些熟識的人幫忙，我把屋架立了起來，其實這也沒有什么必要，我只是借這個機會來跟鄰舍聯絡聯絡。關于屋架的樹立，一切榮耀自應歸我。

　　我相信，有那么一天，大家還要一起來樹立一個更高的結構。七月四日，我開始住進了我的屋子，因為那時屋頂剛裝上，木板剛釘齊，這些木板都削成薄邊，鑲合在一起，防雨是毫無問題的，但在釘木板之前，我已經在屋子的一端砌好一個煙囪的基礎，所用石塊約有兩車之多，都是我雙臂從湖邊抱上山的。但直到秋天鋤完了地以后，我才把煙囪完成，恰在必需生火取暖之前，而前些時候我總是一清大早就在戶外的地上做飯的：這一種方式我還認為是比一般的方式更便利、更愜意一些。如果在面包烤好之前起風下雨，我就在火上擋幾塊木板，躲在下面凝望著面包，便這樣度過了若干愉快的時辰。那些日子里我手上工作多，讀書很少，但地上的破紙，甚至單據，或臺布，都供給我無限的歡樂，實在達到了同閱讀《伊利亞特》一樣的目的。

　　要比我那樣建筑房屋還更謹慎小心，也是劃得來的，比方說，先考慮好一門一窗、一個地窖或一間閣樓在人性中間有著什么基礎，除了目前需要以外，在你找出更強有力的理由以前，也許你永遠也不要建立什么上層建筑的。一個人造他自己的房屋，跟一頭飛鳥造巢，是同樣的合情合理。誰知道呢，如果世人都自己親手造他們自己住的房子，又簡單地老實地用食物養活了自己和一家人，那末詩的才能一定會在全球發揚光大，就像那些飛禽，它們在這樣做的時候，歌聲唱遍了全球?？墒?，唉！我們不喜歡燕八哥和杜鵑，它們跑到別個鳥禽所筑造的巢中去下蛋，那嘰嘰喳喳的不協和樂音并不能使行路經過的人聽了快樂。難道我們永遠把建筑的快樂放棄給木匠師傅？在大多數的人類經驗中，建筑算得了什么呢？在我所有的散步中，還絕對沒有碰到過一個人正從事著建造自己住的房屋這樣簡單而自然的工作。我們是屬于社會的。不單裁縫是一個人的九分之一，還有傳教士，商人，農夫也有這么多呢。這種分工要分到什么程度為止？最后有什么結果？毫無疑問，別人可以來代替我們思想羅；可是如果他這么做是為了不讓我自己思想，這就很不理想了。

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