A JOURNEY TO NATURE 



does art, to use the words of an eloquent French 

 man, f continue the dream of God. 



After this rhapsody the Doctor got up and 

 played with the yellow dog a moment, as if there 

 might be some brute confirmation of what he said 

 in tale-wagging and spontaneous irrelevancy. As 

 I said nothing, he came back to me gustily. 



&quot;You ll pardon me, old chap, for stuffing a 

 conversation with a lecture. Forget all about it 

 and let s play truant. I have an idea it will put 

 you on your spiritual legs, so to speak. We do 

 not need a formal introduction to the unpredica- 

 ble and eternal. All we have to do is to snub 

 ourselves. At all events we can imitate the laxity 

 of sleep for a while. There s recuperation in it. 

 I ve tried it.&quot; 



One morning we started off early, roughly but 

 properly &quot; togged,&quot; without knowing where we 

 were going. I confess that there was a boyish 

 zest in the uncertainty and freedom of it. We 

 were unfamiliar with the country except in the 

 immediate neighbourhood of the farm, and we 

 had looked at no map and asked no questions. 

 Charlie was left in the care of Griselle, with the 

 puzzling understanding that we did not know 

 when we should be back. The moment we were 

 out of sight of the house, the Doctor asked me if 

 I felt any of the true inwardness of being a tramp. 

 I told him I thought I had some faint premoni 

 tions of it. &quot;Wait,&quot; he said, &quot;till we have to 

 beg our dinner, and they ask us to saw wood.&quot; 



How exhilarating that walk was ! There are 

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