"I didn't want to do it," he said petulantly; "I wanted to stop and
see Sandy Smith"--his tone being not unlike what he would have used
when as a boy he doubtless coaxed to "go out and play with Sandy."
Mr. Burroughs is too much a follower of the genuinely simple life
to be long contented in hotels, however genial the hospitality.
He declared the elegant suite at the Mission Inn at Riverside,
which was tendered to him and his party in the most cordial,
unobtrusive way, was too luxurious for a "Slabsider" like him.
It was positively painful to him to be asked, as he was frequently
on the Western and Hawaiian tour, to address audiences, or "just to
come and meet the students" at various schools and colleges. Such
meetings usually meant being "roped in" to making a speech, often
in spite of assurances to the contrary. I have known him to slip
away from a men's club early in the evening, before dinner was
announced, and return to our little cottage in Pasadena, where he
would munch contentedly an uncooked wafer, drink a cup of hot water,
read a little geology, and go to bed at the seasonable hour of nine,
the next morning awakening with a keen appetite for the new day,
for his breakfast, and for his forenoon of work, whereas, had he
stayed out till eleven or twelve, eaten a hearty dinner, and been
stimulated and excited by much talk, he would have awakened without
the joy in the morning which he has managed to carry through his
seventy-six years, and which his readers, who rejoice in the
freshness and tranquillity of his pages, hope he will keep till
he reaches the end of the Long Road.
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