Rensselaer Union, Volume 3, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 August 1871 — Travel. [ARTICLE]

Travel.

Very many people think they can trave 'without learning how. Just now, while so many of our renders have left their hearths and homes for the seaside and the mountain side, let us remind them that traveling is an art. IF you do pot know how to travel, you lose half the results of it. Hearken to some h'nts, therefore. —Travel leisurely. Home-people get more out of a mile than others out of a million. Traveling is not riding through space like a fan-tail comet. Better travel at your leisure, with your eye§ open, across your own garden, than to shut your eye 3 and hold your breath while you go booming across the continent. Summer travel should not Tbe a matter-of miles, but of enjoyment. Your re al old stager never hurries. - He knows better. He r floats along, keeping all his senses opon, leaving nothing until lie is done with it. IlidiDg up Mount Washington the other day, in a mountain wagon, we were drenched with a cold rain. A gentleman in the party leaned over to his half frozen son on the first seat, and asked: “ Willie, how do you like it?” “Well,” growled the boy. “ I shouldn’t want to make a business of it. They pretend to travel for recreation; but they travel as they work, to see how much they can get through. They go up a mountain because they think they should. The mountains and the sea-coast are full of people who have no taste for travel or scenery, but who go because it is “the thing” to go, you know. We met one such party at the Tip top House. All the rest of us were in transports at the glories of the scenery, and, above all, brimful of delight with tbe glories of the box stoves, that crackled and glowed on either side. But there was a par'y of grumblers. Rich, but habitual grumblers. Their woe-begone looks would have well set off a first class funeral. Presently one young man of the doleful party, with a look which said, “ Humbugged once, but not to be caught again,” tipped a knowing but melancholy wink to a companion in grief, \rith the remark, “ You don’t get me up here again, you know. I’d give twenty-five dollars to be down without the trouble of going.” Mount Washington, with its landscapes a hundred miles in extent, and its sunsets beyond description, was not made for such. Your real traveler is a man who can extract suntieams from cucumbers. He knows just where the laugh comes in. If ho is disappointed of what he came to see, he yet knows how to get .the honey of humor out of the disappointment. If he fail of any thing else to laugh at, ho always has a good subject left in himself. But the rarest thing in the art of traveling is not the knowing how to improve discomforts and disappointments, though that is indeed blessed. But to know the use of a grumbler, that is the climax of all. He will not laugh. If you let him be, he will spread out like a pall of thick darkness over every body. He will not laugh with you. Laugh at him. We know it is not polite. But then, a morose man is a gloomy impertinence, a social outlaw, and there is nothing so good for him as "to laugh at him; and there is, indeed, no other f alvation tor his associates. A genuine traveler counts a grumbler in the party a piece of real good fortune.— Heai th and Home.