somber landscape were made bright with merry song, and when the
sun shone and all the golden summer lay spread out before us, it
was glorious just to drift on through it like a wisp, of
thistle-down, careless of how, or when, or where the wind should
anchor us. 'There's a tang of gipsy blood in my veins that pants
for the sun and the air.'

"My duty proper was the manipulation of two blackboards, swung at
the sides of the wagon during our street lecture and concert.
These boards were alternately embellished with colored drawings
illustrative of the manifold virtues of the nostrum vended.
Sometimes I assisted the musical olio with dialect recitations
and character sketches from the back step of the wagon. These
selections in the main originated from incidents and experiences
along the route, and were composed on dull Sundays in lonesome
little towns where even the church bells seemed to bark at us."


On his return to Greenfield after this delightful but profitless
tour he became the local editor of his home paper and in a few
months "strangled the little thing into a change of ownership."
The new proprietor transferred him to the literary department and
the latter, not knowing what else to put in the space allotted
him, filled it with verse. But there was not room in his
department for all he produced, so he began, timidly, to offer
his poetic wares in foreign markets. The editor of The
Indianapolis Mirror accepted two or three shorter verses but in
doing so suggested that in the future he try prose. Being but an
humble beginner, Riley harkened to the advice, whereupon the
editor made a further suggestion; this time that he try poetry