To-day we have enjoyed one of the most beautiful rides in the world. I do not mean grand, like the Corniche, but lovely, because man has beautified what the hand of God had made. The valley of the Wye would have been charming had man never cultivated it, but now it blossoms like the rose. We were tempted to turn off from the main road that we might get a better view of the lovely gardens and charming houses all along the way. I believe it is disputed whether Kent or Shropshire is the more beautiful county; but I cast my vote for Shropshire. I reckon Ruth picked out a score of houses in which she said, had she them, life would be full of joy. "Do you wonder," she said, "that Englishmen in exile--in India, China, Canada, South Africa, and even America--turn back with longing to such homes as these? Surely nothing like it is to be found on earth! But it makes me sad to think how many of these happy girls playing in these gardens must go out to the colonies, and how many of those dear little boys may be killed in some obscure and unnecessary war! Our people have been pilgrims from the beginning, but what New Englander going to the West, or what Virginian crossing the Alleghanies, or farmers trekking from Iowa to Northwest Canada have left anything like this? No wonder 'Home-week' is enough for us! But the English carry with them the smell of the newly turned earth to the desolate, sun-baked plains of India, and the scent of the roses to the snows of Hudson's Bay. And yet, with all their deep sentiment for home, they do not die of nostalgia as do the French when they are taken away from the asphalt and the theatre! What a people they are!" After this rhapsody there was silence for a little space, and then Ruth came back to earth with the remark: "How fortunate it is that we have never had trouble with our tires! I feared we might be changing them all the time." I sapiently remarked: "Well, you see we have not gone far enough yet. These tires are guaranteed for five thousand miles." She pondered this for a moment, and then said: "I don't see how they can be guaranteed, with all this broken glass lying about the road. Think how the drunken carters throw out the empty beer-bottles!" I don't know why it is, but at times Ruth irritates me! It is so hard to explain to a woman anything that involves a mathematical problem. I made no reply, but the remark troubled me. I could not frame an explanation which satisfied me or in a way I felt she would understand! I tried on the law of average, like the insurance actuaries, but, as I say, I could not get it to suit me. It was something like my early attempts to explain to a Bible class why Jacob, rather than Esau, should have inherited the blessing! However, my mind was soon diverted by the charming scenery and the unfamiliar sights on every side. But about an hour later an unfamiliar sound called me from the beauties of England to the motor which I was driving.