standards. He
wastes no time in looking for lighter shades in what is black or dark
spots in the white. Bob holds, for instance, that bad soldiers shoot
down good people, and that good soldiers shoot down bad people. He is
quite as close to the truth as I am, who believe that there is no such
thing as a good soldier and that the business of shooting down people,
whether good or bad, is a wretched one. For all that, I know there come
times when a man must take human life, and in such cases Bob has the
advantage over Hamlet and me. Where we falter and speculate and end by
making a mess of it all, Bob just punches the bad Sultan's head and
passes on to the giraffe that fell into the water.

VII

THE SOLID FLESH

Physical culture as pursued in the home probably benefits a man's body;
but the strain on his moral nature is terrific. I go through my morning
exercise with hatred for all the world and contempt for myself. Why, for
instance, should every system of gymnastics require that a man place
himself in the most ridiculous and unnatural postures? A stout,
middle-aged man who struggles to touch the floor with the palms of his
hands is not a beautiful sight. Equally preposterous is the practice of
standing on one leg and stretching the other toward the nape of one's
neck. In the confines of a city bedroom such evolutions are not only
ungraceful but frequently dangerous. Harrington tells me that every
morning when he lunges forward he scrapes the tips of his fingers
against the edge of the bed and the tears come into his eyes. When he
throws his arms back he hits the gas jet. Harrington's young son, who
insists on being present during the ordeal, believes that the entire
performance is intended for his amusement, and laughs immoderately. I
cannot blame him. Morning exercise is incompatible with the maintenance
of parental dignity. Were I a child again I could neither love nor
respect a father who placed two chairs at a considerable distance from
each other and mounted them horizontally like the human bridge in a
melodrama.

I admit, of course, that home exercises have the merit of being cheap.
No special apparatus is required. The ordinary household furniture and
such heirlooms as are readily available will usually suffice. An onyx
clock will do instead of chest weights. Any two volumes of the
Encyclopaedia Britannica will take the place of dumb-bells or Indian
clubs. Many a time I have stood still and held a br