going“tobethemastOfsomegreatammiral。“
Andhark！herecomesthecattle-trainbearingthecattleofathousandhills，sheepcots，stables，andcow-yardsintheair，droverswiththeirsticks，andshepherdboysinthemidstoftheirflocks，allbutthemountainpastures，whirledalonglikeleavesblownfromthemountainsbytheSeptembergales。Theairisfilledwiththebleatingofcalvesandsheep，andthehustlingofoxen，asifapastoralvalleyweregoingby。Whentheoldbell-wetherattheheadrattleshisbell，themountainsdoindeedskiplikeramsandthelittlehillslikelambs。Acarloadofdrovers，too，inthemidst，onalevelwiththeirdrovesnow，theirvocationgone，butstillclingingtotheiruselesssticksastheirbadgeofoffice。
Buttheirdogs，wherearethey？Itisastampedetothem；theyarequitethrownout；theyhavelostthescent。MethinksIhearthembarkingbehindthePeterboro’Hills，orpantingupthewesternslopeoftheGreenMountains。Theywillnotbeinatthedeath。Theirvocation，too，isgone。Theirfidelityandsagacityarebelowparnow。Theywillslinkbacktotheirkennelsindisgrace，orperchancerunwildandstrikealeaguewiththewolfandthefox。
Soisyourpastorallifewhirledpastandaway。Butthebellrings，andImustgetoffthetrackandletthecarsgoby；——
What’stherailroadtome？