It was easy enough to cross a desert in the night while we were asleep; and it was pleasant to reflect, in the morning, that we in actual person had encountered an absolute desert and could always speak knowingly of deserts in presence of the ignorant thenceforward.

And it was pleasant also to reflect that this was not an obscure, back country desert, but a very celebrated one, the metropolis itself, as you may say.

All this was very well and very comfortable and satisfactory--but now we were to cross a desert in daylight.

This was fine--novel--romantic--dramatically adventurous -- this, indeed, was worth living for, worth traveling for! We would write home all about it.
This enthusiasm, this stern thirst for adventure, wilted under the sultry August sun and did not last above one hour.

One poor little hour--and then we were ashamed that we had "gushed" so.