All about on the streets, in the buildings, under ground and above ground, men were walking, running, creeping, crawling, climbing, lifting, digging, driving, buying, selling, sweating, swearing, praying, loving, hating, struggling, failing, sinning, repenting--all working and living according to a vast harmony, which sometimes we can catch clearly and sometimes miss entirely.

I think, that morning, for a time, I heard the true music of the spheres, the stars singing together.
Mr.Vedder took me to a quiet restaurant where we had a snug alcove all to ourselves.

I shall remember it always as one of the truly pleasant experiences of my pilgrimage.
I could see that my friend was sorely troubled, that the strike rested heavy upon him, and so I led the conversation to the hills and the roads and the fields we both love so much.

I plied him with a thousand questions about his garden.

I told him in the liveliest way of my adventures after leaving his home, how I had telephoned him from the hills, how I had taken a swim in the mill-pond, and especially how I had lost myself in the old cowpasture, with an account of all my absurd and laughable adventures and emotions.
Well, before we had finished our luncheon I had every line ironed from the brow of that poor plagued rich man, I had brought jolly crinkles to the corners of his eyes, and once or twice I had him chuckling down deep inside (Where chuckles are truly effective).