There were in all about twenty
persons. Doubtless there were blisters on the palms and aching bones,
in the first raw days of labor, and the poetry of life was often lost
in the fatigue of the body.
Of the men of the Transcendental Club only Hawthorne and Dwight joined
what was called "Mr. Ripley's community"; and though Mr. Emerson talked
favorably of it he finally declined to join when asked to do so by Mr.
Ripley.
The farmhouse, the only dwelling there was on the place, must have
resounded with remarkable echoes as the pioneers of the new social
order alighted on its threshold. They were of cultivated families, and
were nearly all from the city and neighborhood of Boston. Their hearts
were open to the tender influence of buds and blossoms, the fresh
springing grass and the bubbling brook. They watched the birds of
various plumage; the oriole, who hung his basket nest from the pendant
branches of the elm, the robin redbreast who built close in the thick
branches of the firs, and the sparrow who was contented with a less
prominent nest, as he picked up hairs from the stable or from
underneath the windows.
They were fond of cows, pigs and poultry. There was a flower garden to
work in.
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