THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD. 49 



and rootlets through which character comes to smack 

 of the soil, and which makes a man kindred to the spot 

 of earth he inhabits. 



The roads and paths you have walked along in sum- 

 mer and winter weather, the fields and hills which you 

 have looked upon in lightness and gladness of heart, 

 where fresh thoughts have come into your mind, or 

 some noble prospect has opened before you, and espec- 

 ially the quiet ways where you have walked in sweet 

 converse with your friend, pausing under the trees, 

 drinking at the spring — henceforth they are not the 

 same ; a new charm is added ; those thoughts spring 

 there perennial, your friend walks there forever. 



We have produced some good walkers and saun- 

 terers, and some noted climbers ; but as a staple rec- 

 reation, as a daily practice, the mass of the people dis- 

 like and despise walking. Thoreau said he was a 

 good horse, but a poor roadster. I chant the virtues 

 of the roadster as well. I sing of the sweetness of 

 gravel, good sharp quartz-grit. It is the proper condi- 

 ment for the sterner seasons, and many a human giz- 

 zard would be cured of half its ills by a suitable daily 

 allowance of it. I think Thoreau himself would have 

 profited immensely by it. His diet was too exclusively 

 vegetable. A man cannot live on grass alone. If one 

 has been a lotus-eater all summer, he must turn gravel- 

 eater in the fall and winter. Those who have tried it 

 know that gravel possesses an equal though an oppo- 

 site charm. It spurs to action. The foot tastes it and 



4 



