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day and a night in which I was supremely happy。
If you had chanced to be passing； that crisp spring morning； you would
have seen a traveller on foot with a gray bag on his shoulder； swinging
along the country road； and you might have been astonished to see him lift
his hat at you and wish you a good morning。 You might have turned to
look back at him； as you passed； and found him turning also to look back
at youand wishing he might know you。 But you would not have known
what he was chanting under his breath as he tramped （how little we know
of a man by the shabby coat he wears）； nor how keenly he was enjoying
the light airs and the warm sunshine of that fine spring morning。
After leaving the hill farm he had walked five miles up the valley； had
crossed the ridge at a place called the Little Notch； where all the world lay
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stretched before him like the open palm of his hand； and had come thus to
the boundaries of the Undiscovered Country。 He had been for days
troubled with the deep problems of other people； and it seemed to him this
morning as though a great stone had been rolled from the door of his heart；
and that he was entering upon a new worlda wonderful； high； free world。
And； as he tramped； certain lines of a stanza long ago caught up in his
memory from some forgotten page came up to his lips； and these were the
words （you did not know as you passed） that he was chanting under his
breath as he tramped； for they seem charged with the spirit of the hour：
I've bartered my sheets for a starlit bed； I've traded my meat for a crust
of bread； I've changed my book for a sapling cane； And I'm off to the end
of the world again。
In the Undiscovered Country that morning it was wonderful how fresh
the spring woods were； and how the birds sang in the trees； and how the
brook sparkled and murmured at the roadside。 The recent rain had washed
the atmosphere until it was as clear and sparkling and heady as new wine；
and the footing was firm and hard。 As one tramped he could scarcely keep
from singing or shouting aloud for the very joy of the day。
〃I think；〃 I said to myself； 〃I've never been in a better country；〃 and it
did not seem to me I cared to know where the gray road ran； nor how far
away the blue hills were。
〃It is wonderful enough anywhere here；〃 I said。
And presently I turned from the road and climbed a gently sloping
hillside among oak and chestnut trees。 The earth was well carpeted for my
feet； and here and there upon the hillside； where the sun came through the
green roof of foliage； were warm splashes Of yellow light； and here and
there； on shadier slopes； the new ferns were spread upon the earth like
some lacy coverlet。 I finally sat down at the foot of a tree where through a
rift in the foliage in the valley below I could catch a glimpse in the
distance of the meadows and the misty blue hills。 I was glad to rest； just
rest； for the two previous days of hard labour； the labour and the tramping；
had wearied me； and I sat for a long time quietly looking about me；
scarcely thinking at all； but seeing； hearing； smellingfeeling the spring
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morning； and the woods and the hills； and the patch of sky I could see。
For a long； long time I sat thus； but finally my mind began to flow
again； and I thought how fine it would be if I had some good friend there
with me to enjoy the perfect surroundingssome friend who would
understand。 And I thought of the Vedders with whom I had so recently
spent a wonderful day； and I wished that they might be with me； there
were so many things to be saidto be left unsaid。 Upon this it occurred to
me； suddenly； whimsically； and I exclaimed aloud：
〃Why； I'll just call them up。〃
Half turning to the trunk of the tree where I sat； I placed one hand to
my ear and the other to my lips and said：
〃Hello； Central； give me Mr。 Vedder。〃
I waited a moment； smiling a little at my own absurdity and yet quite
captivated by the enterprise。
〃Is this Mr。 Vedder？ Oh； Mrs。 Vedder！ Well； this is David
Grayson。〃 。 。 。 。
〃Yes； the very same。 A bad penny； a rolling stone。〃 。 。 。 。
〃Yes。 I want you both to come here as quickly as you can。 I have the
most important news for you。 The mountain laurels are blooming； and the
wild strawberries are setting their fruit。 Yes； yes； and in the fieldsall
around here； to…day there are wonderful white patches of daisies； and from
where I sit I can see an old meadow as yellow as gold with buttercups。
And the bobolinks are hovering over the low spots。 Oh； but it is fine here
and we are not together！〃 。 。 。 。
〃No； I cannot give exact directions。 But take the Long Road and turn
at the turning by the tulip…tree； and you will find me at home。 Come right
in without knocking。〃
I hung up the receiver。 For a single instant it had seemed almost true；
and indeed I believeI wonder
Some day； I thought； just a bit sadly； for I shall probably not be here
thensome day； we shall be able to call our friends through space and time。
Some day we shall discover that marvellously simple coherer by which we
may better utilize the mysterious ether of love。
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For a time I was sad with thoughts of the unaccomplished future； and
then I reflected that if I could not call up the Vedders so informally I could
at least write down a few paragraphs which would give them some faint
impression of that time and place。 But I had no sooner taken out my note…
book and put down a sentence or two than I stuck fast。 How foolish and
feeble written words are anyway！ With what glib facility they describe； but
how inadequately they convey。 A thousand times I have thought to myself；
〃 If only I could WRITE！〃
Not being able to write I turned； as I have so often turned before； to
some good old book； trusting that I might find in the writing of another
man what I lacked in my own。 I took out my battered copy of Montaigne
and； opening it at random； as I love to do； came； as luck would have it；
upon a chapter devoted to coaches； in which there is much curious （and
worthless information； darkened with Latin quotations。 This reading had
an unexpected effect upon me。
I could not seem to keep my mind down upon the printed page； it kept
bounding away at the sight of the distant hills； at the sound of a
woodpecker on a dead stub which stood near me； and at the thousand and
one faint rustlings； creepings； murmurings； tappings； which animate the
mystery of the forest。 How dull indeed appeared the printed page in
comparison with the book of life； how shut…in its atmosphere； how tinkling
and distant the sound of its voices。 Suddenly I shut my book with a snap。
〃Musty coaches and Latin quotations！〃 I exclaimed。 〃Montaigne's no
writer for the open air。 He belongs at a study fire on a quiet evening！〃
I had anticipated； when I started out； many a pleasant hour by the
roadside or in the woods with my books； but this was almost the first
opportunity I had found for reading （as it was almost the last）； so full was
the present world of stirring events。 As for poor old Montaigne； I have
been out of harmony with him ever since； nor have I wanted him in the
intimate case at my elbow。
After a long time in the forest； and the sun having reached the high
heavens； I gathered up my pack and set forth again along the slope of the
hillsnot hurrying； just drifting and enjoying every sight and sound。 And
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thus walking I came in sight； through the trees； of a glistening pool of
water and made my way straight toward it。
A more charming spot I have rarely seen。 In some former time an old
mill had stood at the foot of the little valley； and a ruinous stone dam still
held the water in a deep； quiet pond betwee