They recalled and amplified that vision I had seen from the Cotswold ridge, the revelation of the priceless heritage which is England.

I imbibed a mighty quantity of history, but especially I liked the writers, like Walton, who got at the very heart of the English countryside.

Soon, too, I found the _Pilgrim's Progress_ not a duty but a delight.

I discovered new jewels daily in the honest old story, and my letters to Peter began to be as full of it as Peter's own epistles.

I loved, also, the songs of the Elizabethans, for they reminded me of the girl who had sung to me in the June night.
In the afternoons I took my exercise in long tramps along the good dusty English roads.