youth--that of the sense of perfect freedom. I made no plans when
I left home, I scarcely chose the direction in which I was to
travel, but drifted out, as a boy might, into the great busy
world. Oh, I have dreamed of that! It seems almost as though,
after ten years, I might again really touch the highest joys of
adventure!

So I took the Road as it came, as a man takes a woman, for better
or worse--I took the Road, and the farms along it, and the sleepy
little villages, and the streams from the hillsides--all with
high enjoyment. They were good coin in my purse! And when I had
passed the narrow horizon of my acquaintanceship, and reached
country new to me, it seemed as though every sense I had began to
awaken. I must have grown dull, unconsciously, in the last years
there on my farm. I cannot describe the eagerness of discovery I
felt at climbing each new hill, nor the long breath I took at the
top of it as I surveyed new stretches of pleasant countryside.

Assuredly this is one of the royal moments of all the year--fine,
cool, sparkling spring weather. I think I never saw the meadows
richer and greener--and the lilacs are still blooming, and the
catbirds and orioles are here. The oaks are not yet in full leaf,
but the maples have nearly reached their full mantle of
verdure--they are very beautiful and charming to see.

It is curious how at this moment of the year all the world seems
astir. I suppose there is no moment in any of the seasons when
the whole army of agriculture, regulars and reserves, is so fully
drafted for service in the fields. And all the doors and windows,
both in the little villages and on the farms, stand wide open to