Apocryphal Tale Of Milton Melton: The Thoreau of Dayton

As I sit here in the forest upon my oak stump, meditating over my usual lunch of smoked kippers, wild mushrooms, and moonshine, I am reminded of the famed words from the great philosopher Milton Melton, “Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” Melton, known as the “Thoreau of Dayton,” was one of the region’s great thinkers, theorists, and hedonists. In the spirit of Thoreau, he even lived for a time in a cardboard shanty beside a small pond. It was there that he composed his greatest works and planted the seed of thought that would one day grow into his manifesto. There is an apocryphal tale (though I think it’s really true) about Melton’s despair at the great pits of mud that ringed his pond. He claimed that the treacherous mud bogs ensnared him like a fly in molasses during his morning stroll. Thus, he planned to build a paved “trail” so that he could have clear and effortless passage, which would allow him to spend his time in thoughtful meditation rather than in scrapping mud from his boots. However, living in such a remote area offered him few building materials—except for the mud. So one night, under the cover of darkness, he crept into the nearest village. While the inhabitants slumbered, he raided their outhouses of “nightsoil” and returned to his shanty with bucketfuls overbrimming with the unwholesome muck. He performed this deed every night for many weeks—long enough to gather enough nightsoil to encircle the pond in the form of a paved trail. With haste, he toiled under blazing suns and starry nights. Soon, his work was done, and the nightsoil dried to the hardness of a stale biscuit. And when visitors came from far and wide, they all remarked with amazement at what became known as Melton’s Splendid Shit Path.