The man, for such it proved, was performing most wondrous gymnastics
upon the ground,--smelling here, smelling there, too agile to be tipsy,
too silent to be mad. I had no desire to be alone in a lonely road at
nightfall with a maniac, and I was not sorry when my nearer approach
resolved these strange phenomena into a well-dressed pedestrian on
all-fours in the middle of a dusty highway.

He rose as I approached, and I smiled to see that the spectacles astride
his handsome nose were minus one lens. He seemed half blind and wholly
bewildered. I looked at once for the lost glass, and there it lay
shining at me from the very spot where he had been so industriously
peering. He laughed grimly as I handed it to him, fitted his treasure
into its wonted rim, took out his watch, and with a low chuckle said,--

"Twenty-five minutes is a long time to search for a bit of such small
circumference. Thank you. Do you go to the Deacon's?"

"Yes."

"So do I."

We walked on together in silence, till we reached our journey's end,--I
too tired, he too reserved, too preoccupied, or too shy, to speak again;
but when, at last, we were seated with our cigars on the Deacon's
door-step, he turned suddenly to me and asked,--

"Are you fond of the country?"

"Why, yes! What else is there?" I answered, laughing.