Needless to say, he obtained a great deal of pleasure from these
lonely jaunts, and at the same time laid up for future use an ample
supply of mind's ease. His was undoubtedly a romantic nature. He loved
the fancies that his susceptibilities garnered from the hills and
dales and fields and forests. He never tired of the changing prospect;
the simple meadow and the inspiring mountain peak were as one to his
generous imagination. He found something worth while in every mile he
traversed in these long and solitary tramps, and he covered no fewer
than twenty of them between breakfast and dinner unless ordered by
circumstance to loiter along the way.
Each succeeding spring he set out from his "diggings" in New York
without having the remotest idea where his peregrinations would carry
him. It was his habit to select a starting point in advance, approach
that spot by train or ship or motor, and then divest himself of all
purpose except to fare forward until he came upon some haven for the
night. He went east or west, north or south, even as the winds of
heaven blow; indeed, he not infrequently followed them.
For five or six weeks in the early spring it was his custom to forge
his daily chain of miles and, when the end was reached, climb
contentedly aboard a train and be transported, often by arduous means,
to the city where millions of men walk with a definite aim in view.
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