Jan. 25, 1856
Men have been talking for a week now at the post-office about the age of the great elm, as a matter interesting but impossible to be determined. . . I stooped and read its years to them (127 and nine and a half feet), but they heard me as the wind that once sighed through its branches. They still surmised that it might be two hundred years old, but they never stooped to read the inscription. Truly they love darkness rather than light.
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