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〃What are you doing； neighbour？〃
I continued a moment with my playing； but commanded him with my eye。
Oh； I assure you I assumed all the airs of a virtuoso。 When I had finished my tune I removed my whistle deliberately and wiped my lips。
〃Why； enjoying myself；〃 I replied with greatest good humour。 〃What are you doing？〃
〃Why；〃 he said； 〃watching you enjoy yourself。 I heard you playing as I passed in the road； and couldn't imagine what it could be。〃
I told him I thought it might still be difficult； having heard me near at hand； to imagine what it could beand thus； tossing the ball of good…humoured repartee back and forth； we walked down to the road together。 He had a quiet old horse and a curious top buggy with the unmistakable box of an agent or peddler built on behind。
〃My name；〃 he said； 〃is Canfield。 I fight dust。〃
〃And mine；〃 I said； 〃is Grayson。 I whistle。〃
I discovered that he was an agent for brushes； and he opened his box and showed me the greatest assortment of big and little brushes： bristle brushes； broom brushes； yarn brushes； wire brushes； brushes for man and brushes for beast； brushes of every conceivable size and shape that ever I saw in all my life。 He had out one of his especial petshe called it his 〃leader〃and feeling it familiarly in his hand he instinctively began the jargon of well…handled and voice…worn phrases which went with that particular brush。 It was just as though some one had touched a button and had started him going。 It was amazing to me that any one in the world should be so much interested in mere brushesuntil he actually began to make me feel that brushes were as interesting as anything else！
What a strange； little； dried…up old fellow he was； with his balls of muttonchop sidewhiskers； his thick eyebrows； and his lively blue eyes！a man evidently not readily turned aside by rebuffs。 He had already shown that his wit as a talker had been sharpened by long and varied contact with a world of reluctant purchasers。 I was really curious to know more of him； so I said finally：
〃See here； Mr。 Canfield； it's just noon。 Why not sit down here with me and have a bit of luncheon？〃
〃Why not？〃 he responded with alacrity。 〃As the fellow said； why not？〃
He unhitched his horse； gave him a drink from the brook； and then tethered him where he could nip the roadside grass。 I opened my bag and explored the wonders of Mrs。 Stanley's luncheon。 I cannot describe the absolutely carefree feeling I had。 Always at home； when I would have liked to stop at the roadside with a stranger； I felt the nudge of a conscience troubled with cows and corn； but here I could stop where I liked； or go on when I liked； and talk with whom I pleased； as long as I pleased。
So we sat there； the brush…peddler and I； under the trees； and ate Mrs。 Stanley's fine luncheon； drank the clear water from the brook； and talked great talk。 Compared with Mr。 Canfield I was a babe at wanderingand equally at talking。 Was there any business he had not been in； or any place in the country he had not visited？ He had sold everything from fly…paper to threshing…machines； he had picked up a large working knowledge of the weaknesses of human nature； and had arrived at the age of sixty…six with just enough available cash to pay the manufacturer for a new supply of brushes。 In strict confidence； I drew certain conclusions from the colour of his nose！ He had once had a family； but dropped them somewhere along the road。 Most of our brisk neighbours would have put him down as a failurean old man； and nothing laid by！ But I wonderI wonder。 One thing I am coming to learn in this world； and that is to let people haggle along with their lives as I haggle along with mine。
We both made tremendous inroads on the luncheon； and I presume we might have sat there talking all the afternoon if I had not suddenly bethought myself with a not unpleasant thrill that my resting…place for the night was still gloriously undecided。
〃Friend；〃 I said； 〃I've got to be up and going。 I haven't so much as a penny in my pocket； and I've got to find a place to sleep。〃
The effect of this remark upon Mr。 Canfield was magical。 He threw up both his hands and cried out：
〃You're that way； are you？〃as though for the first time he really understood。 We were at last on common ground。
〃Partner；〃 said he； 〃you needn't tell nothin' about it。 I've been right there myself。〃
At once he began to bustle about with great enthusiasm。 He was for taking complete charge of me； and I think； if I had permitted it； would instantly have made a brush…agent of me。 At least he would have carried me along with him in his buggy； but when he suggested it I felt very much； I think； as some old monk must have who had taken a vow to do some particular thing in some particular way。 With great difficulty I convinced him finally that my way was different from histhough he was regally impartial as to what road he took nextand； finally； with some reluctance； he started to climb into his buggy。
A thought； however； struck him suddenly； and he stepped down again； ran around to the box at the back of his buggy； opened it with a mysterious and smiling look at me； and took out a small broom…brush with which he instantly began brushing off my coat and trousersin the liveliest and most exuberant way。 When he had finished this occupation； he quickly handed the brush to me。
〃A token of esteem；〃 he said； 〃from a fellow traveller。〃
I tried in vain to thank him； but he held up his hand； scrambled quickly into his buggy； and was for driving off instantly； but paused and beckoned me toward him。 When I approached the buggy； he took hold of one the lapels of my coat； bent over； and said with the utmost seriousness：
〃No man ought to take the road without a brush。 A good broom…brush is the world's greatest civilizer。 Are you looking seedy or dusty？why； this here brush will instantly make you a respectable citizen。 Take my word for it； friend； never go into any strange house without stoppin' and brushin' off。 It's money in your purse！ You can get along without dinner sometimes； or even without a shirt； but without a brush never！ There's nothin' in the world so necessary to rich AN' poor； old AN' young as a good brush！〃
And with a final burst of enthusiasm the brush…peddler drove off up the hill。 I stood watching him and when he turned around I waved the brush high over my head in token of a grateful farewell。
It was a good； serviceable； friendly brush。 I carried it throughout my wanderings； and as I sit here writing in my study； at this moment； I can see it hanging on a hook at the side of my fireplace。
CHAPTER III。 THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
〃Everyone；〃 remarks Tristram Shandy； 〃will speak of the fair as his own market has gone in it。〃
It came near being a sorry fair for me on the afternoon following my parting with the amiable brush…peddler。 The plain fact is； my success at the Stanleys'； and the easy manner in which I had fallen in with Mr。 Canfield； gave me so much confidence in myself as a sort of Master of the Road that I proceeded with altogether too much assurance。
I am firmly convinced that the prime quality to be cultivated by the pilgrim is humility of spirit； he must be willing to accept Adventure in whatever garb she chooses to present herself。 He must be able to see the shining form of the unusual through the dull garments of the normal。
The fact is； I walked that afternoon with my head in air and passed many a pleasant farmstead where men were working in the fields； and many an open doorway； and a mill or two； and a townalways looking for some Great Adventure。
Somewhere upon this road； I thought to myself； I shall fall in with a Great Person； or become a part of a Great Incident。 I recalled with keen pleasure the experience of that young Spanish student of Carlyle writes in one of his volumes； who； riding out from Madrid one day； came unexpectedly upon the greatest man in the world。 This great man； of whom Carlyle observes （I have looked up the passage since I came home）； 〃a kindlier； meeker； braver heart has seldom looked upon the sky in this world；〃 had ridden out from the city for the last time in his life 〃to take one other look at the azure firmament and green mosaic pavements and the strange carpentry and arras work of this noble palace of a world。〃
As the old story has it； the young student 〃came pricking on hastily； complaining that they went at such a pace as gave him little chance of keeping up with them。 One of the party made answer that the blame lay with the horse of Don Miguel de Cervantes； whose trot was of the speediest。 He had hardly pronounced the name when the student dismounted and； touching the hem of Cervantes' left sleeve； said； 'Yes； yes； it is indeed the maimed perfection； the all…famous； the delightful writer； the joy and darling of the Muses！ You are that brave Miguel。'〃
It may seem absurd to some in this cool and calculating twentieth century that any one should indulge in such vain imaginings as I have describedand yet； why not？ All things are as we see them。 I once heard a mana modern man； living to…daytell with a hush in his voice； and a peculiar light in his eye； how； walking in the outskirts of an unromantic