drivers. The road seemed to cling to the highest hills, and we
climbed up and up for hours. Only once was the grade so steep that
we were obliged to dismount. We passed through no village until we
reached the other side, but every now and then we would come to a
little clearing with two or three houses, possibly a forlorn store
and a silent blacksmith shop; these spots seemed even more lonely
and deserted than the woods themselves. Man is so essentially a
gregarious animal that to come upon a lone house in a wilderness
is more depressing than the forests. Nature is never alone; it
knows no solitude; it is a mighty whole, each part of which is in
constant communication with every other part. Nature needs no
telephone; from time immemorial it has used wireless telegraphy in
a condition of perfection unknown to man. Every morning Mount
Blanc sends a message to Pike's Peak, and it sends it on over the
waters to Fujisan. The bosom of the earth thrills with nervous
energy; the air is charged with electric force; the blue ether of
the universe throbs with motion. Nature knows no environment; but
man is fettered, a spirit in a cage, a mournful soul that seeks
companionship in misery. Solitude is a word unknown to nature's
vocabulary. The deepest recesses of the forest teem with life and
joyousness until man appears, then they are filled with solitude.
The wind-swept desert is one of nature's play-grounds until man
appears, then it is barren with solitude. The darkest mountain
cavern echoes with nature's laughter until man appears, then it is
hollow with solitude. The shadow of man is solitude.
Instead of coming out at Becket as we expected, we found ourselves
way down near Otis and West Otis, and passed through North
Blandford and Blandford to Fairfield, where we struck the main
road.
We stopped for dinner at a small village a few miles from
Westfield. There was but one store, but it kept a barrel of stove
gasoline in an apple orchard. The gasoline was good, but the
gallon measure into which it was drawn had been used for oil,
varnish, turpentine, and every liquid a country store is supposed
to keep--not excepting molasses. It was crusted with sediment and
had a most evil smell. Needless to say the measure was rejected;
but that availed little, since the young clerk poured the gasoline
back into the barrel to draw it out again into a cleaner
receptacle.
The gasoline for sale at country stores is usually all right, but
Here's a piece of wisdom on driving or cute car quote to study:
Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race. ~H.G. Wells
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