I have been surveying most of the time for a month past and have associated with various characters.

December 31. 

P. M. —Surveying Goose Pond. 

After some rain yesterday and in the night, there was a little more snow, and the ground is still covered. 

I am surprised to find Walden still closed since Sunday night, notwithstanding the warm weather since it skimmed over, and that Goose Pond bears, though covered with slosh; but ice under water is slow to thaw. It does not break up so soon as you would expect. 

Walking over it, I thought that I saw an old glove on the ice or slosh, but, approaching, found it to be a bull frog, flat on its belly with its legs stretched out. Touching it, I found it to be alive, though it could only partially open its eyes, and it hung motionless and flimsy like a rag in my hands. It was evidently nearly chilled to death and could not jump, though there was then no freezing. I looked round a good while and finally found a hole to put it into, squeezing it through. 

Perhaps in such a warm rain the surface water becomes warmer than at the bottom, and so tempts the frogs up on to the ice through a hole. This one was wholly unscathed by any animal, but would surely have frozen stiff in the night. 

It is remarkable that in ordinary winter weather you will commonly find some of these small holes called air or breathing holes, in most ponds. But of whatever service they may be to the inhabitants of the water, they are not commonly formed by any undulation or upwelling from below, but as far as I have observed, by surface water flowing in through a crevice and wearing away the ice. 

Warm as it is, underneath all this slosh the ice seems as solid as ever. 

Under and attached to one of the lowermost branches of a white pine sapling in my old potato-field, I see a large hornet's nest, close to the ground.

I have been surveying most of the time for a month past and have associated with various characters: 

First there was Staples, quick, clear, downright, and on the whole a good fellow, especially good to treat with rougher and slower men than himself, always meaning well.

An Irishman, rather slow and dull but well-meaning.

A rustic innkeeper, evidently rather close-fisted. 

George Heywood, a quiet, efficient man, very gentlemanly and agreeable to deal with; no pretense nor bluster, but simple, direct, and even sweet. 

___ ___,  a crooked stick, not readily apprehending your drift, referring to old deeds or places which he can’t find, thinking he is entitled to many more acres than belong to him, but never leaving his work or his cattle to attend to you. To be found commonly in his barn, if you come upon him suddenly before he can hide. Has some complaint or injury which deforms him somewhat, — has crooked his body, so that when you meet him in the street he looks as if he was going across the road. 

Another Irishman, one of the worst of his race, full of blarney, one of the would-be gentlemen, who, when treated according to his deserts, having complained unreasonably of my price, apologizes by saying that he meant nothing. “What's the use of having a tongue in your head if you don’t use it?” 

A common specimen of the Yankee, who commonly answers me with “exactly” or “just so.” 

___ ___, who was so afraid he should lose some land belonging to him that, though he had employed Rice to survey his small wood-lot of three acres, within a year, he working two or three days at it and setting at least fifty stakes about it, having also two plans of it, yet, seeing that I had by chance set a stake a foot or two one side of his line, thought there was some mistake and would have me measure his lot anew. 

It was but little labor, the lines were so open, — for a path was actually worn round the whole lot. He appears to go round it every day or two. When I wanted a straight pole, he was very scrupulous not to cut it from his neighbor's side of the line.

He did not seem able to understand a plan or deed, and had sold some of his land because he did not know that he had a good title to it. Everything I told him about his deed and plan seemed to surprise him infinitely and make him laugh with excess of interest. When I pointed out anything in the plan, he did not look at it, only at my finger and at me, and took my word for it. 

I told him that I wondered his last surveyor had not set a stake and stone in one place, according to his plan and deed, a perfectly plain case, the stump of the pitch pine referred to being left. He said he didn’t want to make bounds, and asked me if I should have set it there, to which I answered, “Yes, of course,” that was what I had been doing all my life, making bounds, or rather finding them, remaking what had been unmade, where they were away. 

He listened to me as if I were an oracle. He did not in the least understand my instrument, or “spy-glass,” as he called it, but had full faith that it knew the way straight through the thickest wood to missing bounds. 

He was so deaf I had to shout to him, and there were two more in his house deafer than he, — and I think only one other. The passers-by commonly hear them talking to one another within. I could never communicate with him when setting a stake or carrying the chain but by signs, and must first get his at tention to the signs. This I accomplished, when he had hold of the chain, by giving it several smart jerks. 

When he paid me at his house, I observed that all his money was in silver. 

He said he told H that we had been cutting off some of his land, and H said, "Is that right?” H has a good deal of large old wood which he will not cut. ___ ___says that he goes into it with his axe, and striking on an old tree says, “That ’s sound,” and so lets it stand, though when cut it turns out to be false-hearted. 

___ ___says that Rice worked two days on only two sides of his lot, but that he told him he would not charge him but two dollars if it took him a week. 

I found and used one of Rice’s poles, left on the ground all planed for the purpose, for he worked not without tools.

H. D. Thoreau,  Journal, December 31, 1857

Surveying Goose Pond. See Concord Library, Plan of the Goose Pond & Walden Pond Woodlots (so called) Belonging to the Heirs of John Richardson, Jr Esq ...Nov. & Dec. 1857

I am surprised to find Walden still closed since Sunday night, notwithstanding the warm weather since it skimmed over. See December 31, 1850 ("Walden pond has frozen over since I was there last.”); December 31, 1853 ("Walden froze completely over last night. It is, however, all snow ice, as it froze while it was snowing hard, and it looks like frozen yeast somewhat.”); see also December 21, 1857 (" Walden and Fair Haven,. . .have only frozen just enough to bear me, “); December 27, 1857("Walden is almost entirely skimmed over. It will probably be completely frozen over to-night”) and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Annual ice-in at Walden

I am surprised to find . . .  Goose Pond bears, though covered with slosh.   See (December 27, 1857 ("Goose Pond is not thickly frozen yet . . .in many places water has oozed out and spread over the ice, mixing with the snow and making dark places.”) See also December 4, 1853 ("Goose Pond apparently froze over last night, all but a few rods, but not thick enough to bear.”)

After some rain yesterday and in the night, there was a little more snow, and the ground is still covered. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The weather, New Year's Eve

It was evidently nearly chilled to death and could not jump. I looked round a good while and finally found a hole to put it into, squeezing it through. See  April 2, 1857 (" I see a toad, which apparently hopped out from under a fence last evening, frozen quite hard in a sitting posture. Carried it into Boston in my pocket, but could not thaw it into life. "); See also April 22, 1857 (“Near Tall's Island, rescue a little pale or yellowish brown snake that was coiled round a willow half a dozen rods from the shore. ”);  June 6, 1856 (“In the large circular hole or cellar at the turntable on the railroad, which they are repairing, I see a star-nosed mole endeavoring in vain to bury himself in the sandy and gravelly bottom. Some inhuman fellow has cut off his tail. I carry him along to plowed ground, where he buries himself in a minute or two.”); May 19, 1856 ("Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris . . .. The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. "); August 23, 1851 ("[ A snake] had a toad in his jaws, which he was preparing to swallow with his jaws distended to three times his width, but he relinquished his prey in haste and fled"); July 23, 1856 ("Saw . . . a small bullfrog in the act of swallowing a young but pretty sizable apparently Rana palustris, . . . I sprang to make him disgorge, but it was too late to save him. ")

I see a large hornet's nest, close to the ground. See December 29, 1856 (“By Nut Meadow Brook, just beyond Brown's fence crossing, I see a hornets' nest about seven inches in diameter on a thorn bush, only eighteen inches from the ground.”); December 29, 1858 ("A large hornets’ nest thirty feet high on a maple over the river.”) See also  October 25, 1854 ("The maples being bare, the great hornet nests are exposed.”); October 15, 1855 ("The hornets’ nests are exposed, the maples being bare, but the hornets are gone”) and  A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Wasps and Hornets

December 31, 2017