I'd Pick More Daisies If I had my life to live over I’d try to make more mistakes next time. I would relax. I would limber up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I know of very few things that I would take seriously. I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic. I would take more chances. I would take more trips. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would burn up more gasoline. I would eat more ice cream and less bran. I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones. You see I am one of those fellows who live prudently and prophylactically and sensibly and sanely hour after hour day after day. Oh I have had my moments and if I had it to do over again I’d have more of them—a lot more of them. In fact I’d try to have nothing else. Just moments one after another instead of living so many years so many years ahead every day. I have been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer a hot-water bottle a gargle a raincoat and a parachute. If I had it to do over I would go places and do things and travel lighter than I have. If I had my life to live over I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would play hookey more. I wouldn’t make such good grades except by accident. I would have more dogs. I would have more sweethearts. I would keep later hours. I would have more headaches. I would fish more. I would go to more circuses. I would go to more dances. I would ride on more merry-go-rounds. I’d pick more daisies. —Don Herold