but his mind always keeps reverting to home and its interests. "I wonder," he says, to himself, "if every thing is going on well at home. Are the people at home doing as I bade them?" Or, "Dear me! I forgot to leave a message for So and So. What a nuisance!" Or, "I ought not to have left such and such directions. It was very foolish of me. I wish I had not done so." And so the man's anxieties and troubles accompany him wherever he goes: he cannot banish them from his mind, and the consequence is that he gets no benefit from his trip, whether it be to the beautiful shores of Suma or Akashi, or to the Temples of Nara or Kyoto. And he loses not only his enjoyment. His mind is worried and wearied by his anxieties, his sleep is broken, and the next day he cannot continue his journey. His whole trip becomes but labour lost, and he comes back from his holiday more fagged than when he set out. And all because he could not forget his home. Home-sickness is a miserable thing: those who suffer from it had better never leave home at all,
