THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD. 43 



much and more along the shores of Walden Pond. 

 The former, as it were, has merely time to glance at 

 the headings of the chapters, while the latter need not 

 miss a line, and Thoreau reads between the lines. 

 Then the walker has the privilege of the fields, the 

 woods, the hills, the by-ways. The apples by the road- 

 side are for him, and the berries, and the spring of 

 water, and the friendly shelter ; and if the weather is 

 cold, he eats the frost grapes and the persimmons, or 

 even the white-meated turnip, snatched from the field 

 he passed through, with incredible relish. 



Afoot and in the open road, one has a fair start in 

 life at last. There is no hindrance now. Let him put 

 his best foot forward. He is on the broadest human 

 plane. This is, the level of all the great laws and he- 

 roic deeds. From this platform he is eligible to any 

 good fortune. He was sighing for the golden age ; let 

 him walk to it. Every step brings him nearer. The 

 youth of the world is but a few days' journey distant. 

 Indeed, I know persons who think they have walked 

 back to that fresh aforetime of a single bright Sunday 

 in autumn or early spring. Before noon they felt its 

 airs upon their cheeks, and by nightfall, on the banks 

 of some quiet stream, or along some path in the wood, 

 or on some hill-top, aver they have heard the voices and 

 felt the wonder and the mystery that so enchanted the 

 early races of men. 



I think if I could walk through a country I should 

 not only see many things and have adventures that I 



