To-day we have enjoyed one of the most beautiful rides in the world.
I do not mean grand, like the Corniche, but lovely, because man has
beautified what the hand of God had made. The valley of the Wye
would have been charming had man never cultivated it, but now it
blossoms like the rose. We were tempted to turn off from the main
road that we might get a better view of the lovely gardens and
charming houses all along the way. I believe it is disputed whether
Kent or Shropshire is the more beautiful county; but I cast my vote
for Shropshire. I reckon Ruth picked out a score of houses in which
she said, had she them, life would be full of joy.
"Do you wonder," she said, "that Englishmen in exile--in India,
China, Canada, South Africa, and even America--turn back with longing
to such homes as these? Surely nothing like it is to be found on
earth! But it makes me sad to think how many of these happy girls
playing in these gardens must go out to the colonies, and how many of
those dear little boys may be killed in some obscure and unnecessary
war! Our people have been pilgrims from the beginning, but what New
Englander going to the West, or what Virginian crossing the
Alleghanies, or farmers trekking from Iowa to Northwest Canada have
left anything like this? No wonder 'Home-week' is enough for us!
But the English carry with them the smell of the newly turned earth
to the desolate, sun-baked plains of India, and the scent of the
roses to the snows of Hudson's Bay. And yet, with all their deep
sentiment for home, they do not die of nostalgia as do the French
when they are taken away from the asphalt and the theatre! What a
people they are!"
After this rhapsody there was silence for a little space, and then
Ruth came back to earth with the remark: "How fortunate it is that we
have never had trouble with our tires! I feared we might be changing
them all the time."
I sapiently remarked: "Well, you see we have not gone far enough yet.
These tires are guaranteed for five thousand miles."
She pondered this for a moment, and then said: "I don't see how they
can be guaranteed, with all this broken glass lying about the road.
Think how the drunken carters throw out the empty beer-bottles!"
I don't know why it is, but at times Ruth irritates me! It is so
hard to explain to a woman anything that involves a mathematical
problem. I made no reply, but the remark troubled me. I could not
frame an explanation which satisfied me or in a way I felt she would
understand! I tried on the law of average, like the insurance
actuaries, but, as I say, I could not get it to suit me. It was
something like my early attempts to explain to a Bible class why
Jacob, rather than Esau, should have inherited the blessing!
However, my mind was soon diverted by the charming scenery and the
unfamiliar sights on every side. But about an hour later an
unfamiliar sound called me from the beauties of England to the motor
which I was driving.