When there were several bands of musicians， it sounded as if all the village was a vast bellows and all the buildings expanded and collapsed alternately with a din.  But sometimes it was a really noble and inspiring strain that reached these woods， and the trumpet that sings of fame， and I felt as if I could spit a Mexican with a good relish ―― for why should we always stand for trifles？ ―― and looked round for a woodchuck or a skunk to exercise my chivalry upon.  These martial strains seemed as far away as Palestine， and reminded me of a march of crusaders in the horizon， with a slight tantivy and tremulous motion of the elm tree tops which overhang the village.  This was one of the great days； though the sky had from my clearing only the same everlastingly great look that it wears daily，and I saw no difference in it.

　　It was a singular experience that long acquaintance which I cultivated with beans， what with planting， and hoeing， and harvesting， and threshing， and picking over and selling them ―― the last was the hardest of all ―― I might add eating， for I did taste. I was determined to know beans.  When they were growing， I used to hoe from five o'clock in the morning till noon， and commonly spent the rest of the day about other affairs.  Consider the intimate and curious acquaintance one makes with various kinds of weeds ―― it will bear some iteration in the account， for there was no little iteration in the labor ―― disturbing their delicate organizations so ruthlessly， and making such invidious distinctions with his hoe，levelling whole ranks of one species， and sedulously cultivating another.  That's Roman wormwood ―― that's pigweed ―― that's sorrel―― that's piper-grass ―― have at him， chop him up， turn his roots upward to the sun， don't let him have a fibre in the shade， if you do he'll turn himself t' other side up and be as green as a leek in two days.  A long war， not with cranes， but with weeds， those Trojans who had sun and rain and dews on their side.  Daily the beans saw me come to their rescue armed with a hoe， and thin the ranks of their enemies， filling up the trenches with weedy dead. Many a lusty crest ―― waving Hector， that towered a whole foot above his crowding comrades， fell before my weapon and rolled in the dust.

　　Those summer days which some of my contemporaries devoted to the fine arts in Boston or Rome， and others to contemplation in India，and others to trade in London or New York， I thus， with the other farmers of New England， devoted to husbandry.  Not that I wanted beans to eat， for I am by nature a Pythagorean， so far as beans are concerned， whether they mean porridge or voting， and exchanged them for rice； but， perchance， as some must work in fields if only for the sake of tropes and expression， to serve a parable-maker one day. It was on the whole a rare amusement， which， continued too long，might have become a dissipation.  Though I gave them no manure， and did not hoe them all once， I hoed them unusualy well as far as I went， and was paid for it in the end， "there being in truth，" as Evelyn says， "no compost or laetation whatsoever comparable to this continual motion， repastination， and turning of the mould with the spade."  "The earth，" he adds elsewhere， "especially if fresh， has a certain magnetism in it， by which it attracts the salt， power， or virtue （call it either） which gives it life， and is the logic of all the labor and stir we keep about it， to sustain us； all dungings and other sordid temperings being but the vicars succedaneous to this improvement."  Moreover， this being one of those "worn-out and exhausted lay fields which enjoy their sabbath，" had perchance， as Sir Kenelm Digby thinks likely， attracted "vital spirits" from the air.  I harvested twelve bushels of beans.

　　要是有幾個樂隊在演奏著啊，整個村子就好像是一只大風箱了，一切建筑物交替地在囂音之中一會兒擴張，一會兒坍下。然而有時傳到林中來的是真正崇高而興奮的樂句，喇叭歌唱著榮譽，我覺得自己仿佛可以痛痛快快地用刀刺殺一個墨西哥人，――我們為什么常要容忍一些瑣碎事物？――我就四處尋找土撥鼠和鼬鼠，很想表演我的騎士精神。

　　這種軍樂的旋律遙遠得像在巴勒斯坦一樣，使我想起十字軍在地平線上行進，猶如垂在村子上空的榆樹之巔微微搖曳和顫動的動作。這是偉大的一天啊，雖然我從林中空地看天空，還和每天一樣，是同樣無窮盡的蒼穹，我看不出有什么不同。

　　種豆以來，我就和豆子相處，天長日久了，得到不少專門經驗，關于種植，鋤地，收獲，打場，揀拾，出賣，――最后這一種尤其困難，――我不妨再加上一個吃，我還吃了豆子，嘗了味道的。

　　我是決心要了解豆子的。在它們生長的時候，我常常從早晨五點鐘鋤到正午，通常是用這天剩余時間來對付別的事情。想想，人跟各種雜草都還可以結交得很親熱很奇異呢，――說起這些來是怪累贅的，勞動的時候這些雜草已經夠累贅的了，――把一種草全部搗毀，蠻橫地摧殘了它們的纖細的組織，鋤頭還要仔細地區別它們，為了把另一種草來培養。這是羅馬艾草，――這是豬玀草，――這是酢醬草，――這是蘆葦草，――抓住它，拔起它，把它的根翻起來，暴露在太陽下，別讓一根纖維留在蔭影中間，要不然，它就側著身子爬起來，兩天以后，就又青得像韭菜一樣。這是一場長期戰爭，不是對付鶴，而是對付敗草，這一群有太陽和雨露幫忙的特洛伊人。豆子每天都看到我帶了鋤頭來助戰，把它們的敵人殺傷了，戰壕里填滿了敗草的尸體。有好些盔飾飄搖、結實強壯的海克脫，比這成群的同伴們高出一英尺的，也都在我的武器之下倒斃而滾入塵埃中去了。

　　在這炎夏的日子里，我同時代的人有的在波士頓或羅馬，獻身于美術，有的在印度，思索著，還有的在倫敦或紐約，做生意，我這人卻跟新英格蘭的其他農夫們一樣，獻身于農事。這樣做并不是為了要吃豆子，我這人天性上屬于畢達哥拉斯一派，至少在種豆子這件事上是如此。管它是為了吃，或為了選票，或為了換大米，也許只是為了給將來一個寓言家用吧，為了譬喻或影射，總得有人在地里勞動。總的說來，這是一種少有的歡樂，縱然繼續得太久了，也要引起虛擲光陰的損失。雖然我沒有給它們施肥，也沒有給它們全部都鋤一遍草、松一遍土，但我常常盡我的能力給它們鋤草松土，結果是頗有好處的，“這是真的，”正像愛芙琳說過的，“任何混合肥料或糞肥都比不上不斷地揮鋤舞鏟，把泥上來翻身。”“土地，”他還在另一個地方寫著，“特別是新鮮的土地，其中有相當的磁力，可以吸引鹽、力，或美德（隨便你怎樣稱呼吧）來加強它的生命，土地也是勞力的對象，我們在土地上的所有活動養活了我們，一切糞肥和其他的惡臭的東西只不過是此種改進的代用品而已。”況且，這塊地只是那些“正在享受安息日的耗盡地力、不堪利用的土地”，也許像凱南爾姆。狄格貝爵士想過的，已經從空氣中吸取了“有生的力量”。我一共收獲了十

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