black-ash trees and scraggy apple boughs shaded

'A land in which it seemed always afternoon.'

"I do not doubt that the lotus grew along the grassy marge of the Concord
behind his house, and that it was served, subtly concealed, to all his
guests. The house, its inmates, and its life lay dream-like upon the edge
of the little village. You fancy that they all came together and belonged
together, and were glad that at length some idol of your imagination, some
poet whose spell had held you, and would hold you forever, was housed as
such a poet should be.

"During the lapse of the three years since the bridal tour of twenty miles
ended at the 'two tall gate-posts of roughhewn stone,' a little wicker
wagon had appeared at intervals upon the avenue, and a placid babe, whose
eyes the soft Concord day had touched with the blue of its beauty, lay
looking tranquilly up at the grave old trees, which sighed lofty lullabies
over her sleep. The tranquillity of the golden-haired Una was the living
and breathing type of the dreamy life of the Old Manse. Perhaps, that
being attained, it was as well to go. Perhaps our author was not surprised
or displeased when the hints came, 'growing more and more distinct, that
the owner of the old house was pining for his native air.' One afternoon I
entered the study and learned from its occupant that the last story he
should ever write there was written."

In the midnight chapter of his "Blithedale Romance," Hawthorne described
an incident which actually took place in Concord. A young girl drowned
herself, and her body was found as there set forth. Hawthorne wrote a full
account of the drowning in his journal, which is printed by Julian
Hawthorne in his biography of "Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife." No