"

"That's exactly what I've found," said I. "Let a road become almost
impassable with ruts and rocks and dust, and immediately some man says,
'Oh, it's all right--put on a little oil--'"

"That's what our supervisor is always sayin'," said the road-worker.

"Yes," I responded, "it usually is the supervisor. He lives by it. He
wants to smooth over the defects, he wants to lay the dust that every
passerby kicks up, he tries to smear over the truth regarding conditions
with messy and ill-smelling oil. Above everything, he doesn't want the
road dug up and rebuilt--says it will interfere with traffic, injure
business, and even set people to talking about changing the route
entirely! Oh, haven't I seen it in religion, where they are doing their
best to oil up roads that are entirely worn out--and as for politics, is
not the cry of the party-roadster and the harmony-oilers abroad in the
land?"

In the excited interest with which this idea now bore me along I had
entirely forgotten the existence of my companion, and as I now glanced
at him I saw him standing with a curious look of astonishment and
suspicion on his face. I saw that I had unintentionally gone a little
too far. So I said abruptly:

"Partner, let's get a drink. I'm thirsty."

He followed me, I thought a bit reluctantly, to a little brook not
far up the road where we had been once before. As we were drinking,
silently, I looked at the stout young fellow standing there, and I
thought to myself:

What a good, straightforward young fellow he is anyway, and how
thoroughly he knows his job. I thought how well he was equipped with
unilluminated knowledge, and it came to me whimsically, that here was a
fine bit of road-mending for me to do.

Most people have sight, but few have insight; and as I looked into
the clear blue eyes of my friend I had a sudden swift inspiration, and
before I could repent of it I had said to him in the most serious voice
that I could command:

"Friend, I am in reality a spectacle-peddler--"

His glance shifted uncomfortably to my gray bag.

"And I want to sell you a pair of spectacles," I said. "I see that you
are nearly blind."

"Me blind!"

It would be utterly impossible to describe the expression on his
face. His hand went involuntarily to his eyes, and he glanced quickly,
somewhat fearfully, about.

"Yes, nearly blind," said I. "I saw it when I first met you. You don't
know it yourself yet, but I can assure you it is a bad