The Friendly Road: New Adventures in Contentment

r me when I placed my trust in the vagrant road. I thought for a time that I was more than a match for the Road, but I soon learn

or climbed leisurely hill slopes only to find that it had crept around

rs, and often I scarcely know of their presence until I am so close upon them that I ca

though assured that Cerberus was securely chained; but I found, after a time, what I might indeed have guessed, that the Road, also led irresisti

ia creeper reaching in at my study window, to see the green of my own quiet fields, to hear the p

ng, I took to the Road with fresh joy. All the fields were of a misty greenness and there were pools still shining in the road, but the air was deliciously clear, clean, and s

Road, and stood for a moment lo

w?" I ask

nd several times and then stopped. When I opened my eyes I was facing nearly southward: and that way I s

gons, and jolly families off for town, and a herdsman driving sheep, and small boys on their way to school with their dinner pails, and a gyps

time to know a Jew,

of my great adventure. I had been looking for a certain thing all the morning, first on one side of the road

RE

tly. It seemed l

ot at all tired, but I

off my hat, wiped my forehead, and looked about m

imens of humanity (I thought then) that ever I saw. He had been standing near the roadside,

n himself!"

and walked down th

ywhere here," I said exult

wspapers and magazines with which the low-hanging pockets of his overcoat were stuffed. For he was still wearing an old shabby overcoat though the weather was warm and bright-and on his head was an odd and outlandish hat. It was of fur, flat at the top, f

!" I t

ed at him m

I, "an ow

afterward shining with a strange inward illumination-was not favourable. It was a deep-lined, scarred, worn-looking face, insi

riend," I sa

ng to my greet

rn?"-with a faint flavour

d his hand to thank me that one finger was missing an

e would have given any other signpost. I stood a moment looking after him-the wings of

"is a man who is actu

e be amusing and insignificant-who is really (and passionately) going somewhere, what a stir he c

at one moment I could not help smiling

myself, "that this is

hed I was much agitated as to the best method of grappling and boarding. I finally de

longside, "you are the m

d and loo

t si

n 'Rest' alo

onds with a perplexed

not the sign

ied, "I ain't

determined to see if there was any treasure aboard-which, I

elf," I said, "and if y

usly, indeed suspiciously, t

he passport?" h

I exclaimed, mys

the passport. Let

t, and then took it with a quick warm pressure in one of hi

of us," said

ry, and I was about to return it in kind when I

"we shall trave

p the road side by side, his bulging pockets beating first

anger, "that we shall b

med with something,

"but it is all i

is

hrowing back his overcoat he pointed t

strikin' there, and the bosses have got armed men on every

round me-a world I had heard about for years, but never entered. And the tone in which he had used the word "capit

a Socialis

"I'm one of those

f my farm among the hills, but this was the first time I had ever had a live Socialist on my ar

ss of the extraordinary. Here was this disrupter of society, this man of the red flag-here he was with his mild spectacled eyes

it of woodland, where a stream

it down and have a

late, said he was e

"and I can say, at least, that I

me into the woods, where we sa

, nor, I think, tasted Mrs. Ransome's cookery. As soon as we sat down he began talking. From time to time he would reach out for another sandwich or doughnut or pickle (without knowing in the least which he was getting), and when that was gone some reflex impulse caused him to reach out for some more. When the last

ed, his face lighted up with a strange effulgence, and he quite lost himself upon the tide of his own oratory. I saw

m" and "syndicalism." It was quite wonderful! And from time to time, he would bring in a smashing quotation from Aristotle, Napoleon, Kar

nd, raising one hand high above his head (quite unconscious that he was hol

s genuinely simple-a much higher virtue, as Fenelon says. For while sincere people do not aim at appearing anything but what they are, they are always in fear of passing for something they are not. They are forever thinking about themselves, weighing all their words and thoughts and

n him: and I wanted to know what way he took to purge himself of himself. I think if I had been in that group nineteen hundred years ago, which su

thee? How opened

t current of his oratory and finally succeeded (when

ome hard experiences

nded Bill Hahn, "the

the mills yourself?"

at hell for thirty-two years-The class-conscio

she work too-and you

pain crosse

said. "They killed

he uttered those words-the monotone of an emotion l

, and I could not help l

describable pity that they have had to pass through the val

hter-what brought you t

led myself a Socialist, but, comrade, I've learned this here truth: that it ain't of so mu

id I, "that I

felt only a brotherly interest, but from time to time some incident or observation would flame up out of the narrative, like th

essaries of life, broken from time to time by fierce irregular wars called strikes. He had never known anything of a real self-governing commonwealth, and such progress as he and his k

nineties. He told me all about it, how he had been working in the mills pretty comforta

he said; "we grew cabbages and onions and turnips-e

ly, and they began getting into the mills and underbidding for the jobs, so that wages slowly went down and at the same time the machines were speeded up. It seems that many of these "black people" were single men or vigorous

ing for a decent fa

ds, the approach of winter with no coal for the stoves and no warm clothing for the children. He told me th

rst of emotion, "I couldn't leave.

ushed helter skelter back to the mills to get their o

ack people," and many had to go to work at lower wages

company, claiming that the accident was due to his own stupidity and carelessness, refused even to pay his wages while he was idle. Well, the family had to live somehow, and the woman and the daughter-"she was a little thing," he said, "and frail"-the woman

live," said

e, "We had to live!" as a sort of bedro

frightfully scarred hand-he held it up

worse," said he, "and finally I

their own condition; but in some way ("they had spies everywhere," he said) the manager learned of the attempt and one morni

lped in my small way to build it up, make it a big concern payin' 28 per cent. dividends eve

ife and daughter were still at work, so he hung on grimly, trying to get some other job. "But what good i

ll his strength. He was one of the leaders. I shall not attempt to repeat here his description of the bitter struggle, the coming of the soldiery, the street riots, the long l

he stopped suddenly, and after a

e and your sickly daughter and you

with a hard, dry

ever s

bly, "I have never see

hall never forget the look on his

you know abou

ould I

aid, as if a little remorsefu

u, the iron entered

nization would collapse, and the strikers be forced back to work. One day Bill Hahn found that proceedings had been started to turn him out of his home, upon which he

ow," he said, "we l

. He said he made a great discovery: that the "black peopl

to call 'em dagoes-were just workin' people like us-and in hell with us. They were g

hich he told me how he came, as he said, "to see the true light." Holding up

he sky," he said, "I seen

d goods on the sidewalk in front of his home. He saw his wife there wringing her hands and crying. He said he could not take a step further, but sat down on a neighbour's porch and looked and looked. "It was curious," he said, "but the only thing I could see or think about was

nd then smi

ld have been able to think of nothing b

house, "coughing as though she was dyin'." Something, he said, seemed to st

adquarters, borrowed a revolver from a friend, and started out

ear o' Robert W

" sa

l. He owned the mills there and the largest store

m, and for his great place and power; but I need not dwell on it here. He told me how he climbed through

my daughter Margy right there before m

w and waited there a moment while he drew out and cocked his revolver. Then he slowly reached upward

"I had murder in m

g in with the revolver r

u think I seen

t guess,

r five long months-and he was down on his hands and knees on the carpet-he had his l

Hahn

said, "but I couldn't do

cold, and, "Comrade," he said, "I was

for work-but Bill Hahn did not go back. He knew it would be useless. A

d, "as though some one had fired

asked, when he had paused for a lo

, and I says to myself: 'This thing is wrong, and I

ears, the old bulging overcoat, the round spectacles, the scarred, insignificant face-he seemed

s when he had reached this astonishing decision to go out and stop

t become o' me, and I began

something big and strong had got ho

efore in all my life. I ain't got any family, nor any home-rightly speakin

d his story we sat

ust be goin'. The committee wi

road. There I put my hand

u are a better

smile, and we walked of

ll where one can see in the distance that smoky huddle of buildings which is known as Kilburn, and though he urged me, I

eagerly. Presently they threw up their hands and evidently began to shout, though I could not hear what they said. At that moment I saw my

istians, those who hid in the Roman ca

at thi

n regard himself as a function, no

e hill-some strange force carrying me on