The house stands within ten or fifteen feet of the old Boston road
(along which the British marched and retreated), divided from it by a
fence, and some trees and shrubbery of Mr. Alcott's setting out.
Whereupon I have called it "The Wayside," which I think a better name
and more morally suggestive than that which, as Mr. Alcott has since
told me, he bestowed on it,--"The Hillside." In front of the house, on
the opposite side of the road, I have eight acres of land,--the only
valuable portion of the place in a farmer's eye, and which are capable
of being made very fertile. On the hither side, my territory extends
some little distance over the brow of the hill, and is absolutely good
for nothing, in a productive point of view, though very good for many
other purposes.
I know nothing of the history of the house, except Thoreau's telling me
that it was inhabited a generation or two ago by a man who believed he
should never die. [Footnote: This is the first intimation of the story
of Septimius Felton, so far as local setting is concerned. The scenery
of that romance was obviously taken from the Wayside and its hill.] I
believe, however, he is dead; at least, I hope so; else he may probably
appear and dispute my title to his residence....
I asked Ticknor to send a copy of "The Blithedale Romance" to you. Do
not read it as if it had anything to do with Brook Farm (which
essentially it has not), but merely for its own story and character.
Truly yours,
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
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