FOOTPATHS 209 
ish look, but the glimpse of a furlong of road 
puts them all in friendly relations. The nar- 
rower the path, the more domestic and familiar 
it seems. The railroad may represent the capi- 
talist or the government; the high-road indi- 
cates what the surveyor or the county commis- 
sioners thought best; but the footpath shows 
what the people needed. Its associations are 
with beauty and humble life,—the boy with’ 
his dog, the little girl with her fagots, the ped- 
ler with his pack; cheery companions they are 
or ought to be. 
“Jog on, jog on the footpath way, 
And merrily hent the stile-a: 
A merry heart goes all the day, 
Your sad one tires in a mile-a.” 
The footpath takes you across the farms and 
behind the houses; you are admitted to the 
family secrets and form a personal acquaint- 
ance. Even if you take the wrong path, it 
only leads you “across lots” to some man 
ploughing, or some old woman picking berries, 
—perhaps a very spicy acquaintance, whom 
the road would never have brought to light. 
If you are led astray in the woods, this only 
teaches you to observe landmarks more closely, 
or to leave straws and stakes for tokens, like a 
gypsy’s patteran, to show the ways already 
traversed. There is a healthy vigor in the 
