of　me；　was　my　man　with　the　shaggy　little　dog　close　at　his　heels。　He　was　making　pretty　good　time；　but　I　skirted　swiftly　along　the　edge　of　the　road　until　I　had　nearly　overtaken　him。　Then　I　slowed　down　to　a　walk　and　stepped　out　into　the　middle　of　the　road。　I　confess　my　heart　was　pounding　at　a　lively　rate。　The　next　time　he　looked　behind　himguiltily　enough；　too！I　said　in　the　calmest　voice　I　could　command：
  〃Well；　brother；　you　almost　left　me　behind。〃
  He　stopped　and　I　stepped　up　to　him。
  I　wish　I　could　describe　the　look　in　his　facemingled　astonishment；　fear；　and　defiance。
  〃My　friend；〃　I　said；　〃I'm　disappointed　in　you。〃
  He　made　no　reply。
  〃Yes；　I'm　disappointed。　You　did　such　a　very　poor　job。〃
  〃Poor　job！〃　he　exclaimed。
  〃Yes；〃　I　said；　and　I　slipped　my　bag　off　my　shoulder　and　began　to　rummage　inside。　My　companion　watched　me　silently　and　suspiciously。
  〃You　should　not　have　left　the　rubbers。〃
  With　that　I　handed　him　my　old　rubbers。　A　peculiar　expression　came　into　the　man's　face。
  〃Say；　pardner；　what　you　drivin'　at？〃
  〃Well；〃　I　said；　〃I　don't　like　to　see　such　evidences　of　haste　and　inefficiency。〃
  He　stood　staring　at　me　helplessly；　holding　my　old　rubbers　at　arm's　length。
  〃Come　on　now；〃　I　said；　〃that's　over。　We'll　walk　along　together。〃
  I　was　about　to　take　his　arm；　but　quick　as　a　flash　he　dodged；　cast　both　rubbers　and　rain…cape　away　from　him；　and　ran　down　the　road　for　all　he　was　worth；　the　little　dog；　looking　exactly　like　a　rolling　ball　of　fur；　pelting　after　him。　He　never　once　glanced　back；　but　ran　for　his　life。　I　stood　there　and　laughed　until　the　tears　came；　and　ever　since　then；　at　the　thought　of　the　expression　on　the　jolly　rover's　face　when　I　gave　him　my　rubbers；　I've　had　to　smile。　I　put　the　rain…cape　and　rubbers　back　into　my　bag　and　turned　again　to　the　road。
  Before　the　afternoon　was　nearly　spent　I　found　myself　very　tired；　for　my　two　days'　experience　in　the　city　had　been　more　exhausting　for　me；　I　think；　than　a　whole　month　of　hard　labour　on　my　farm。　I　found　haven　with　a　friendly　farmer；　whom　I　joined　while　he　was　driving　his　cows　in　from　the　pasture。　I　helped　him　with　his　milking　both　that　night　and　the　next　morning；　and　found　his　situation　and　family　most　interestingbut　I　shall　not　here　enlarge　upon　that　experience。
  It　was　late　afternoon　when　I　finally　surmounted　the　hill　from　which　I　knew　well　enough　I　could　catch　the　first　glimpse　of　my　farm。　For　a　moment　after　I　reached　the　top　I　could　not　raise　my　eyes；　and　when　finally　I　was　able　to　raise　them　I　could　not　see。
  〃There　is　a　spot　in　Arcadya　spot　in　Arcadya　spot　in　Arcady〃　So　runs　the　old　song。
  There　IS　a　spot　in　Arcady；　and　at　the　centre　of　it　there　is　a　weather…worn　old　house；　and　not　far　away　a　perfect　oak　tree；　and　green　fields　all　about；　and　a　pleasant　stream　fringed　with　alders　in　the　little　valley。　And　out　of　the　chimney　into　the　sweet；　still　evening　air　rises　the　slow　white　smoke　of　the　supper…fire。
  I　turned　from　the　main　road；　and　climbed　the　fence　and　walked　across　my　upper　field　to　the　old　wood　lane。　The　air　was　heavy　and　sweet　with　clover　blossoms；　and　along　the　fences　I　could　see　that　the　raspberry　bushes　were　ripening　their　fruit。
  So　I　came　down　the　lane　and　heard　the　comfortable　grunting　of　pigs　in　the　pasture　lot　and　saw　the　calves　licking　one　another　as　they　stood　at　the　gate。
  〃How　they've　grown！〃　I　said。
  I　stopped　at　the　corner　of　the　barn　for　a　moment。　From　within　I　heard　the　rattling　of　milk　in　a　pail　（a　fine　sound）；　and　heard　a　man's　voice　saying：
  〃Whoa；　there！　Stiddy　now！〃
  〃Dick's　milking；〃　I　said。
  So　I　stepped　in　at　the　doorway。
  〃Lord；　Mr。　Grayson！〃　exclaimed　Dick；　rising　instantly　and　clasping　my　hand　like　a　long…lost　brother。
  〃I'm　glad　to　see　you！〃
  〃I'm　glad　to　see　YOU！〃
  The　warm　smell　of　the　new　milk；　the　pleasant　sound　of　animals　stepping　about　in　the　stable；　the　old　mare　reaching　her　long　head　over　the　stanchion　to　welcome　me；　and　nipping　at　my　fingers　when　I　rubbed　her　nose
  And　there　was　the　old　house　with　the　late　sun　upon　it；　the　vines　hanging　green　over　the　porch；　Harriet's　trim　flower　bedI　crept　along　quietly。　to　the　corner。　The　kitchen　door　stood　open。
  〃Well；　Harriet！〃　I　said；　stepping　inside。
  〃Mercy！　David！〃
  I　have　rarely　known　Harriet　to　be　in　quite　such　a　reckless　mood。　She　kept　thinking　of　a　new　kind　of　sauce　or　jam　for　supper　（I　think　there　were　seven；　or　were　there　twelve？　on　the　table　before　I　got　through）。　And　there　was　a　new　rhubarb　pie　such　as　only　Harriet　can　make；　just　brown　enough　on　top；　and　not　too　brown；　with　just　the　right　sort　of　hills　and　hummocks　in　the　crust；　and　here　and　there　little　sugary　bubbles　where　a　suggestion　of　the　goodness　came　throughsuch　a　pie！　and　such　an　appetite　to　go　with　it！
  〃Harriet；〃　I　said；　〃you're　spoiling　me。　Haven't　you　heard　how　dangerous　it　is　to　set　such　a　supper　as　this　before　a　man　who　is　perishing　with　hunger？　Have　you　no　mercy　for　me？〃
  This　remark　produced　the　most　extraordinary　effect。　Harriet　was　at　that　moment　standing　in　the　corner　near　the　pump。　Her　shoulders　suddenly　began　to　shake　convulsively。
  〃She's　so　glad　I'm　home　that　she　can't　help　laughing；〃　I　thought；　which　shows　how　penetrating　I　really　am。
  She　was　crying。
  〃Why；　Harriet！〃　I　exclaimed。
  〃Hungry！〃　she　burst　out；　〃and　j…joking　about　it！〃
  I　couldn't　say　a　single　word；　somethingit　must　have　been　a　piece　of　the　rhubarb　piestuck　in　my　throat。　So　I　sat　there　and　watched　her　moving　quietly　about　in　that　immaculate　kitchen。　After　a　time　I　walked　over　to　where　she　stood　by　the　table　and　put　my　arm　around　her　quickly。　She　half　turned　her　head；　in　her　quick；　businesslike　way。　I　noted　how　firm　and　clean　and　sweet　her　face　was。
  〃Harriet；〃　I　said；　〃you　grow　younger　every　year。〃
  No　response。
  〃Harriet；〃　I　said；　〃I　haven't　seen　a　single　person　anywhere　on　my　journey　that　I　like　as　much　as　I　do　you。〃
  The　quick　blood　came　up。
  〃TherethereDavid！〃　she　said。
  So　I　stepped　away。
  〃And　as　for　rhubarb　pie；　Harriet〃
  When　I　first　came　to　my　farm　years　ago　there　were　mornings　when　I　woke　up　with　the　strong　impression　that　I　had　just　been　hearing　the　most　exquisite　sounds　of　music。　I　don't　know　whether　this　is　at　all　a　common　experience；　but　in　those　days　（and　farther　back　in　my　early　boyhood）　I　had　it　frequently。　It　did　not　seem　exactly　like　music　either；　but　was　rather　a　sense　of　harmony；　so　wonderful；　so　pervasive　that　it　cannot　be　described。　I　have　not　had　it　so　often　in　recent　years；　but　on　the　morning　after　I　reached　home　it　came　to　me　as　I　awakened　with　a　strange　depth　and　sweetness。　I　lay　for　a　moment　there　in　my　clean　bed。　The　morning　sun　was　up　and　coming　in　cheerfully　through　the　vines　at　the　window；　a　gentle　breeze　stirred　the　clean　white　curtains；　and　I　could　smell　even　there　the　odours　of　the　garden。
  I　wish　I　had　room　to　tell；　but　I　cannot；　of　all　the　crowded　experiences　of　that　day；　the　renewal　of　acquaintance　with　the　fields；　the　cattle；　the　fowls；　the　bees；　of　my　long　talks　with　Harriet　and　Dick　Sheridan；　who　had　cared　for　my　work　while　I　was　away；　of　the　wonderful　visit　of　the　Scotch　Preacher；　of　Horace's　shrewd　and　whimsical　comments　upon　the　general　absurdity　of　the　head　of　the　Grayson　familyoh；　of　a　thousand　thingsand　how　when　I　went　into　my　study　and　took　up　the　nearest　book　in　my　favourite　caseit　chanced　to　be　〃The　Bible　in　Spain〃it　opened　of　itself　at　one　of　my　favourite　sages；　the　one　beginning：
  〃Mistos　amande；　I　am　content〃
  So　it's　all　over！　It　has　been　a　great　experience；　and　it　seems　to　me　now　that　I　have　a　firmer　grip　on　life；　and　a　firmer　trust　in　that　Power　which　orders　the　ages。　In　a　book　I　read　not　long　ago；　called　〃A　Modern　Utopia；〃　the　writer　provides　in　his　imaginary　perfect　state　of　society　a　class　of　leaders　known　as　Samurai。　And；　from　time　to　time；　it　is　the　custom　of　these　Samurai　to　cut　themselves　loose　from　the　crowding　world　of　men；　and　with　packs　on　their　backs　go　away　alone　to　far　places　in　the　deserts　or　on　Arctic　ice　caps。　I　am　convinced　that　every　man　needs　some　such　change　as　this；　an　opportunity　to　think　things　out；　to　get　a　new　grip　on　life；　and　a　new　hold　on　God。　But　not　for　me　the　Arctic　ice　cap　or　the　desert！　I　choose　the　Friendly　Roadand　all　the　mon　people　who　travel　in　it　or　live　along　itI　choose　even　the　busy　city　at　the　end　of　it。
  I　assure　you；　friend；　that　it　is　a　wonderful　thing　for　a　man　to　cast　himself　freely　for　a　time　upon　the　world；　not　knowing　where　his　next　meal　is　coming　from；　nor　where　he　is　going　to　sleep　for　the　night。　It　is　a　surprising　readjuster　of　values。　I　paid　my　way；　I　think；　throughout　my　pilgrimage；　but　I　discovered　that　stamped　metal　is　far　from　being　the　world's　only　true　coin。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　there　are　many　things　that　men　prize　more　highlybecause　they　are　rarer　and　more　precious。
  My　friend；　if　you　should　chance　yourself　some　day　to　follow　the　Friendly　Road；　you　may　catch　a　fleeting　glimpse　of　a　man　in　a　rusty　hat；　carrying　a　gray　bag；　and　sometimes　humming　a　little　song　under　his　breath　for　the　joy　of　being　there。　And　it　may　actually　happen；　if　you　stop　him；　that　he　will　take　a　tin　whistle　from　his　bag　and　play　for　you；　〃Money　Musk；〃　or　〃Old　Dan　Tucker；〃　or　he　may　produce　a　battered　old　volume　of　Montaigne　from　which　he　will　read　you　a　passag