Thoreau's example of the bug appears near the very end of Walden. The Transcendentalist presents the story as a familiar anecdote, saying that "every one has heard the story which has gone the rounds of New England" as he introduces it. In this way he again establishes familiarity with the reader, particularly Concord locals, as he specifically focuses on New England lore. The table, from which the bug emerges, "had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first in Connecticut, and afterward in Massachusetts" and was "from an egg deposited in the living tree many years earlier still." The bug was hatched by the heat emanating from an urn and gnawed "for several weeks" in order to free itself. The anecdote allows Thoreau to speculate on how one responds to chance. The bug was hatched unexpectedly, and, even though it was born sixty years out of its time, it gnaws its way toward a completely unknown world. Some people may be afraid to enter into an uncertain time or place; Thoreau's bug not only welcomes the opportunity but fights for it, and its new existence will also benefit the world that will get to finally include its "beautiful and winged life." Thoreau believes that we should all be like the bug, fighting for the chance at life, no matter how unfamiliar and unexpected it may be, until finally "enjoy[ing] its perfect summer at last!"