Fyne, you must know, was an enthusiastic pedestrian.

He spent his holidays tramping all over our native land.

His tastes were simple.
He put infinite conviction and perseverance into his holidays.

At the proper season you would meet in the fields, Fyne, a serious-faced, broad- chested, little man, with a shabby knap-sack on his back, making for some church steeple.

He had a horror of roads.