Men's
ways lie in such diverse directions, and the hours of contact are often
so short, that no one can afford to be either ungracious or exclusive.
The "buttoned-up" misses the best part of travelling. He is like a
camera with the cap on--he never gets a new impression. The man with the
shutters of his ears thrown wide and the lids of his eyes tied back gets
a new one every hour.
If, in addition to this, he wears the lens of his heart upon his sleeve,
and will adjust it so as to focus the groups around him--it may be a
pair of lovers, or some tired mother, or happy child, or lonely
wayfarer, or a waif--he will often get a picture of joy, or sorrow, or
hope--life dramas all--which will not only enrich the dull hours of
travel, but will leave imprints on the mind which can be developed later
into the richest and tenderest memories of his life.
I have a way of arranging my own sensitized plates, and I get a certain
amount of entertainment out of the process, and now and then a Rembrandt
effect whose lights and darks often thrill me for days.
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