THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD. 37 



Of those 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 roadside 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 cor- 

 poreal powers, — of such diversion and open road en- 

 tertainment, 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 a gentility." 



It is indeed astonishing with what ease and hilarity 

 the English walk. To an American it seems a kind 



