If you cannot see life here in the wide road, you will never see it at all.
Well, I saw a sign yesterday at the roadside that I never saw anywhere before.

It was not a large sign--indeed rather inconspicuous--consisting of a single word rather crudely painted in black (as by an amateur) upon a white board.

It was nailed to a tree where those in swift passing cars could not avoid seeing it: [ REST ] I cannot describe the odd sense of enlivenment, of pleasure I had when I saw this new sign.
"Rest!" I exclaimed aloud.

"Indeed I will," and I sat down on a stone not far away.
"Rest!" What a sign for this very spot! Here in the midst of the haste and hurry of the Great Road a quiet voice was saying, "Rest." Some one with imagination, I thought, evidently put that up; some quietist offering this mild protest against the breathless progress of the age.

How often I have felt the same way myself--as though I were being swept onward through life faster than I could well enjoy it.