THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD. 1 



Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road. 



WALT WHITMAN. 



OCCASIONALLY on the sidewalk, amid the 

 dapper, swiftly moving, high-heeled boots and 

 gaiters, I catch a glimpse of the naked human foot. /- 

 Nimbly it scuffs along, the toes spread, the sides 

 flatten, the heel protrudes; it grasps the curbing, 

 or bends to the form of the uneven surfaces, a 

 thing sensuous and alive, that seems to take cogni- 

 zance of whatever it touches or passes. How primi- 

 tive and uncivil it looks in such company, a real 

 barbarian in the parlor! We are so unused to the 

 human anatomy, to simple, unadorned nature, that 

 it looks a little repulsive; but it is beautiful for all 

 that. Though it be a black foot and an unwashed 

 foot, it shall be exalted. It is a thing of life amid 

 leather, a free spirit amid cramped, a wild bird 

 amid caged, an athlete amid consumptives. It is 

 the symbol of my order, the Order of Walkers./^ 

 That unhampered, vitally playing piece of anatomy 

 is the type of the pedestrian, man returned to first 



1 From Winter Sunshine, 



