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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Little Rivers by Henry van Dyke: of bushes. The only philosophers to be seen were a family of what
the guides quaintly call "quill pigs." The roof had fallen to the
ground; raspberry-bushes thrust themselves through the yawning
crevices between the logs; and in front of the sunken door-sill lay
a rusty, broken iron stove, like a dismantled altar on which the
fire had gone out forever.
After we had feasted upon the view as long as we dared, counted the
lakes and streams, and found that we could see without a glass more
than thirty, and recalled the memories of "good times" which came
to us from almost every point of the compass, we unpacked the
camera, and proceeded to take some pictures.
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