Resorting to
alliteration's artful aid, it may be said I seemed bound to be bothered
by Boston brown bread. I brooded morning, noon and night over the one
idea that when my father came, I would beseech him to take me back home.
It appeared, later, that I was not being altogether neglected by the
authorities during this trying period, as they had kept their eyes on
the new boy and were seriously considering this same idea, thinking it
would perhaps be better to advise his father to take him away. The dour
youker was plainly enough so unhappily out of place that they were
inclined not to try to keep him. Truly, a bad beginning!
This was not a decision adopted to meet the special case in hand, but
rather an unwritten rule of the community. Brook Farm was a solidarity,
a company united to put in practice certain principles and to accomplish
certain results, and only those were wanted who could enter into the
spirit of the movement and aid in carrying on the great work. Those who
did not help, hindered, and to hinder the task of reforming society
could not be permitted.
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