THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD. 



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



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 pro- 

 tudes ; it grasps the curbing, or bends to the form of 

 the uneven surfaces, a thing sensuous and alive, 

 that seems to take cognizance of whatever it touches 

 or passes. / How primitive and uncivil it looks in such 

 company, a real barbarian in the parlor. We are 

 so unused to the human anatomy, to simple, un- 

 adorned 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. 

 iThat unhampered, vitally playing piece of anatomy is 

 the type of the pedestrian, man returned to first princi- 

 ples, in direct contact and intercourse with the earth 

 and the elements, his faculties unsheathed, his mind 

 plastic, his body toughened, his heart light, his soul 



