the
moon's unwavering effulgence or that leaping coruscation of the stars.
Nothing stirred on the right hand or the left, but earth and air were
hushed, as if before that colloquy all sound and motion were
miraculously holden. Tall trees brown with densest shadows were massed
upon one side, obscuring half the heaven, and lending by their
contrasted gloom that sense of wizardry in natural things which enchants
the clear summer nights when the air is still.

This is but one among many visions of which the remembrance makes life
worshipful; and it is pity that at the hour of their coming well-nigh
all whom they should delight lie chambered within brick walls, lost in
sleep or in the mazes of unprofitable thoughts. For these things in
their rare appearances are more precious than an hour's slumber, were it
dreamless as a child's, or all the watches of luxurious unrest. If
another summer is given me I hope to take the road when July has come
with balmy nights, and wander days at a stretch with all I need upon my
shoulders. Then I shall know the real joy of vagrancy, caring little
where night finds me, and quickening my steps for nothing and for no
man. I shall linger in every glade or on every hill-top which calls to
me to stay; I shall tell all the hedgerow flowers, and lean over the
gates to watch the foals playing. The brooks shall be my washing-basins,
and I shall quench hunger and thirst in the tiled kitchens of lonely
farmsteads. If I hear the shriek of a train I shall smile when I think
of its cooped and harried passengers, and plunge devious into some
pathless wood, in whose depths the only sounds are the tap of the
woodpecker's bill or the measured axe-strokes of the woodman. I shall
fling myself down to rest under what tree I will, and pulling from my
pocket the book of my choice, I shall summon a wise and cheerful
companion to my side as easily as ever oriental magician called a jinn
to do him service. I shall once more be commensal with wild creatures,
and wonder that solitude was ever a pain; I shall be healthily
disdainful of the valetudinarian who lives to spoil either his body or
his soul.

These are the wanderings which henceforward will chiefly suffice to my
need. For since I roamed my fill in other continents the gadfly may no
longer sting me out of my tranquil haunts. In their youth lonely people
suffer more than others from that restlessness which fills the mind with
sudden distaste for the present sce