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.
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