" ... I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in
squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one
side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noon time, when all nature
is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it
broke the Sabbath stillness around, and was prolonged and reverberated
by the angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I
might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away
the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this
little valley. ..."
Washington Irving
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