FOREST RECREATION DEPARTMENT 



"A FRIEND TO MAN' 



267 



CRAGS AND A LAKE OF THE MEDICINE BOW 



High at timberline nestle lakes of much beauty encircled by 

 veteran trees. Wyoming's Forests are some of the most striking 

 national playgrounds easily reached over auto and rail highways. 



STEEL HIGHWAYS TIE EAST TO WEST 



The great transcontinental rail systems bring the population of 

 the Atlantic Seaboard quickly to their playlands of the West. 

 Here a vista of haze-touched peaks would greet the traveler from 

 Pullman window. 



also the playgrounds of those seeking health, rest and 

 re-creation of mind, body and soul. The Forests of Dis- 

 trict Two welcome you. They are yours for play and 

 enjoyment. 



For further information, write the District Forester, 

 Denver Colorado. 



The author of "The House by the Side of the Road" was 

 an enthusiastic traveler, says "The Federation" recently. 

 On one of his trips through New England, he came across 

 a little, unpointed house set almost in the road, at the top 

 of a long hill. An oddly shaped sign post finger pointed to 

 a ivell-worn path, and a sign read, "Come in and have a 

 cool drink." Following the path, he found at some distance 

 from the house a spring of ice-cold tvater into which a 

 barrel had been sunk. Above it hung an old-fashioned 

 gourd dipper. On a bench xms a basket of fragrant apples, 

 with the sign, "Help yourself." 



Returning to the house, he found a childless old couple 

 in poverty, whose only support was the rocky farm. Too 

 poor to give money, and desiring to help others in some 

 way, they had resolved to share their cool water and 

 abundant fruit with the travelers by the zvay; and so. 

 from the ripening of the first plums' to the harvesting of 

 the last_ apples, a basket of fruit was kept at hand for any 

 who might come up the long hill. 



The beautiful spirit of ministry revealed in this old 

 couple so impressed Foss that he conceived the poem here 

 printed, in zvhich that spirit is portrayed and glorified. 



THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD 



There are hermit souls that live withdrawn 



In the peace of their self-content; 

 There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart 



In a ffillowless firmament. 

 There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths 



Where the highways never ran 

 But let me live by the side of the road 



And be a friend to man. 



Let me live in a house by the side of the road, 



Where the race of men go by 

 The men who are good and the men who are bad, 



As good and as bad as I. 

 I would not sit in the scorner's seat, 



Or hurl the cynic's ban 

 Let me live in a house by the side of the road 



And be a friend to man. 



I see from my house by the side of the road, 



By the side of the highway of life, 

 The men who press with the ardor of hope. 



The men who faint with strife; 

 But I turn not away from their smiles or their tears 



Both parts of an infinite plan 

 Let me live in a house by the side of the road 



And be a friend to man. 



I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead, 



And the mountains of wearisome height; 

 And the road passes on through the long afternoon, 



And stretches away to the night. 

 But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice, 



And weep with the strangers that moan. 

 Nor live in my house by the side of the road 



Like a man who dwells alone. 



Let me live in my house by the side of the road, 



Where the race of men go by 

 They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong. 



Wise, foolish so am I. 

 Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat 



Or hurl the cynic's ban? 

 Let me live in my house by the side of the road 



And be a friend to man. 



Sam Walter Foss. 



