THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD. 



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



OCCASIONALLY on the sidewalk, amid the dap- 

 per, 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 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. That 

 unhampered, vitally playing piece of anatomy is the. 

 type of the pedestrian, man returned to first principles^, 

 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 dilated ; while 



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