"I am
going for a walk up to the mountains," he said. "I can do my thinking
best when I am out walking alone." Afterward I wondered what new
revolution to startle the landed aristocracy of Britain he devised on
that summer day by himself among the mountains. Curiously enough,
Lloyd George does not like exercise for his own sake, but he enjoys it
when he has a mental task in hand; he also enjoys it during a game of
golf. I once heard him say that without golf he would never have
thought of taking a four-mile walk for recreation. It is worthy of
mention in connection with this that he has been described at second
hand on his own confession as being a very lazy man, and that he has
sometimes absolutely to force himself to a settled task--and, strange
as it may appear, there is nothing in this inconsistent with the public
estimation of him as a person of uncontrollable energy. Let his heart
be given to an object, and there is no effort he will spare, no degree
of fatigue to which he will not drive himself.

Intensely fond of an open-air life, Lloyd George's days at Criccieth
are always a joy to him. You will come across him unexpectedly on the
bank of the river Dwyfor with a fishing-rod in his hand, trying for
trout. You will see him sometimes in the early morning at work in his
garden in his endeavor to demonstrate that fruit trees will grow as
well in Welsh soil as in the warm, red earth of Devonshire. Sometimes
he and his wife, with perhaps one of his sons, will put a couple of
tents into an automobile, start off up among the mountains, and camp
out in some lonely and romantic spot for days at a time, living the
primitive life entirely by themselves.

Strange it is to observe the attitude of the people of the countryside
where he was brought up and where he built his early fame. There are a
scattered few of the middle classes who in this remote country spot
cannot understand the heights he has reached in public estimation. It
is really a weird sensation to come from the outer world and talk to
these people. No, no, he may to some extent have secured notoriety in
circles even as far off as London, but really there is nothing in the
man. Why, he was brought up here in the village! But these quaintly
prejudiced folk are, after all, but a remnant, and the great mass of
people all around in the farms and cottages prize his fame highly. The
pride with which a villager refers to the fact that he went to school