THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD 27 



iatigue the greater our faith in the virtue of the 

 medicine. 



Of these gleesome saunters over the hills in 

 spring, or those sallies of the body in winter, those 

 excursions into space when the foot strikes fire at 

 every step, when the air tastes like a new and finer 

 mixture, when we accumulate force and gladness as 

 we go along, when the sight of objects by the road- 

 side and of the fields and woods pleases more than 

 pictures or than all the art in the world, — those 

 ten or twelve mile dashes that are but the wit and 

 effluence of the corporeal powers, — of such diver- 

 sion and open road entertainment, I say, most of us 

 know very little. 



I notice with astonishment that at our fashionable 

 watering-places nobody walks; that, of all those vast 

 crowds of health-seekers and lovers of country air, 

 you can never catch one in the fields or woods, or 

 guilty of trudging along the country road with dust 

 on his shoes and sun-tan on his hands and face. 

 The sole amusement seems to be to eat and dress 

 and sit about the hotels and glare at each other. 

 The men look bored, the women look tired, and all 

 seem to sigh, "O Lord! what shall we do to be 

 happy and not be vulgar ? " Quite different from 

 our British cousins across the water, who have 

 plenty of amusement and hilarity, spending most 

 of the time at their watering-places in the open 

 air, strolling, picnicking, boating, climbing, briskly 

 walking, apparently with little fear of sun-tan or of 

 compromising their "gentility." 



