244 



AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 



July, 1907 



Monthly Comment 



>HE desire for change, whether of occupation 

 or of location, of scene, air or surround- 

 ings, is one of the most ancient and deep- 

 rooted of human inclinations. Very clearly 

 it is a survival of the nomadic instincts of 

 primitive man, who, forced by the necessity 

 of obtaining food and shelter, moved rest- 

 lessly from spot to spot, changing his abode with the seasons 

 or as the food supply diminished. Thus change has become 

 one of the most marked of human instincts, and is as deeply 

 ingrained in human nature to-day as in the early epochs of 

 mankind. But the modern changes are animated by very 

 different reasons from those that stirred on our primitive 

 ancestors to move. The kind of necessity that impels a 

 modern man to move on is of a very different sort. He moves 

 solely because of a desire for change, to see something he has 

 not seen before ; to do something he has not done before ; to 

 have a variety in his life; and to benefit himself, mentally 

 and physically, by a complete and radical change. Hence the 

 modern change of scene has nothing in common with the old. 



Singularly enough, those who, by their circumstances, 

 would seem to require the fewest changes, actually demand 

 the most. The most persistent vacationers the modern world 

 has known are the wealthy Americans. Their vacations are 

 so numerous, and go so far afield, that the mere record of 

 them consumes columns of valuable newspaper space, and the 

 whole world is agog over their doings and restings. This 

 kind of a vacation stands in a class by itself. Much of it rests 

 on no real necessity, but is due solely to lack of interest in 

 matters close at hand, and, often enough, to a complete lack 

 of occupation, l^en to the \ ery lazy there are few things 

 so wearing as ha\'ing nothing to do and an amplitude of time 

 in which to do it. With the lazy man it is not so much mere 

 hatred of interest, but hatred of performing some laborious 

 undertaking, doing something he does not want to do, and 

 having to go to one place at a set time when he would rather 

 go elsewhere or do something else. But there must always 

 be something to interest him, something to hold his attention, 

 something to entertain and amuse. 



Hence the rich wan, devoid of occupation, is the hardest 

 put of all mortals to find entertainment. He has no routine 

 interests, he has no regular duties, he has no definite aim in 

 life save to get through as manv hours a day as possible in 

 what he conceives to be an agreeable manner. If there is 

 nothing to do at home he seeks relaxation elsewhere. And 

 so he moves to and fro on the earth, a train of golden dollars 

 streaming out behind him, sometimes engaging in original 

 feats of travel, but exev on the lookout for the new, the new% 

 the new. The most stupenduous forms of nature, the most 

 splendid achievements of European masters, the charm of 

 life, the beauty there is in the world, all pall before the insati- 

 able clamor for something new, something that has not been 

 seen or done before. 



Vacations conciucted on such lines yield little good 

 either to the persons immediately concerned or to the world 

 at large. There is a larger class of persons who take vaca- 

 tions because they honestly think they need them, and often 

 honestly do. They go to rest a jaded brain or replenish an 

 exhausted body; they go from work and return to work, and 

 even if this latter be of no broad interest, it is honest work, 

 calling for honest effort, and which, after a vacation wisely 

 spent, will be the better done and with less exhaustion than 



before the rest was obtained. It is for such people that the 

 vacation period has become a popular necessity, and it is for 

 them it really exists. 



And how is one to spend a vacation? It is a question that, 

 once asked, had better be passed over. The theory of the 

 vacation is very simple : it is the period in which the person 

 taking it does exactly as he pleases, where he pleases and 

 without regard to the sober callings of life — it is play time. 

 Practically it may be defined in precisely the same way, and 

 the practical question that then presents itself to anyone 

 planning a vacation Is, how to get the most desired play in 

 the most practical manner? One has only to inspect the antics 

 of the small boy to realize — if one does not know it other- 

 wise — that what is play for one is not play for another. The 

 vacation that, to one man, sums up every possible vacation 

 delight, may, to another, be wrapped in difficulties so arduous 

 as to be positively irksome. The question, therefore, must 

 be answered by each one in his own way. It must be met In 

 a personal way. If a new project Is tried It is sometimes 

 helpful not to be swayed too much by those who are Its 

 sponsors. 



Vacation is not only play time, but It Is rest time. A 

 period of relaxation, its purpose Is to fit the person benefitted 

 for better work and better doing on Its conclusion. Forget 

 care and responsibility as one should and must in order to 

 obtain the best result, the sort of play and the kind of rest 

 must be carefully considered and planned In advance. A 

 vacation that is taken on the spur of a moment or as a sudden 

 whim is likely to be of small help. If the money cost must 

 be counted in advance. It is equally essential that the mental 

 and physical benefits would be considered in every aspect. 

 Mere change will often accomplish wonders in such better- 

 ments, but change alone is not always sufficient, and the 

 wisest will carefully think out and plan their vacations, de- 

 termine whether such and such occupations are going to be 

 entertaining enough, whether there will be real rest and a 

 real change. 



While the vacation period Is entered upon gaily by many 

 persons, there is still a very large number who do so only 

 with regret and hesitancy, persons whose narrow means and 

 slender resources make the vacation a matter of great dlflH- 

 culty and often of utter Impossibility. The very poor, who 

 do not know what a vacation means, are often helped in the 

 most outspoken way, and turned out to wander among the 

 green fields and to delight in soft woods. But between this 

 class and the well-to-do, there is a vast middle class, who can 

 not afford vacations, and who can not be assisted to have 

 them. Many of these people are in urgent need of the 

 change and rest that the wealthy so glibly toss around them, 

 yet modern philanthropy has found no way to reach these 

 people or to help them as they ought to be helped. 



In arranging a vacation always determine beforehand 

 where you are going and what you expect to do when you 

 get there. Count the cost and make a liberal allowance for 

 unexpected expenses and unexpected demands. If going to 

 Europe remember that days and months spent In studying the 

 guide books is time well spent. If going into the mountains 

 and to the seashore, find out something about the place you 

 are going to. Stay indoors as little as possible, conduct your- 

 self in a rational way, think little of your looks and dress, 

 and have as bully a good time as you can. 



