t grows late and there's work to-morrow--all the
things we did and said. They stayed until it was dark, and when Mrs.
Starkweather was ready to go, she took both of Harriet's hands in hers
and said with great earnestness:

"I haven't had such a good time at Christmas since I was a little girl.
I shall never forget it."

And the dear old Scotch Preacher, when Harriet and I had wrapped him up,
went out, saying:

"This has been a day of pleasant bread."

It has; it has. I shall not soon forget it. What a lot of kindness and
common human nature--childlike simplicity, if you will--there is in
people once you get them down together and persuade them that the things
they think serious are not serious at all.

III

THE OPEN ROAD

"To make space for wandering is it that the world was made so wide."

--GOETHE, _Wilhelm Meister_.

I love sometimes to have a day alone--a riotous day. Sometimes I do not
care to see even my best friends: but I give myself up to the full
enjoyment of the world around me. I go out of my door in the
morning--preferably a sunny morning, though any morning will do well
enough--and walk straight out into the world. I take with me the burden
of no duty or responsibility. I draw in the fresh air, odour-laden from
orchard and wood. I look about me as if everything were new--and behold
everything _is_ new. My barn, my oaks, my fences--I declare I never saw
them before. I have no preconceived impressions, or beliefs, or
opinions. My lane fence is the end of the known earth. I am a discoverer
of new fields among old ones. I see, feel, hear, smell, taste all these
wonderful things for the first time. I have no idea what discoveries I
shall make!

So I go down the lane, looking up and about me. I cross the town road
and climb the fence on the other side. I brush one shoulder among the
bushes as I pass: I feel the solid yet easy pressure of the sod. The
long blades of the timothy-grass clasp at my legs and let go with
reluctance. I break off a twig here and there and taste the tart or
bitter sap. I take off my hat and let the warm sun shine on my head. I
am an adventurer upon a new earth.

Is it not marvellous how far afield some of us are willing to travel in
pursuit of that beauty which we leave behind us at home? We mistake
unfamiliarity for beauty; we darken our perceptions with idle
foreignness. For want of that ardent inner curiosity which is the only
true foundation for the appreciation