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DUKE UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 The Glenn Negley Collection 
 of Utopian Literature 
 
THE NATURAL MAN. 
 
Freedom is this to me 
 The remedy. 
 
:\mmM^iAfffD 
 
 burner iTOTH 
 
Arranged and printed for the pub- 
 lisher, AT Alwil Shop, Ridgewood, 
 New Jersey. 
 
 Copyright, 1902, by J. Wm. Lloyd. 
 
u/ cy^ //^ 
 
 ZfTSM 
 
 The friendly and flowing savage, who is he? 
 Is he waiting for civilization, or is he past it 
 and mastering it? 
 
 Whitman. 
 
 *If you would live at your ease,' savs Democ- 
 ritus, 'manage but a few things. ' * * * For the 
 greater part of what we say and do, being unnec- 
 cessary, if this were but once retrenched we 
 should have both more leisure & less disturbance. 
 
 Marcus Aurelius. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/natvralmanromancOOIIoy 
 
// is not meanty O Reader^ that you 
 should live life as this man lived it, but only 
 that you should fearlessly and gladly live 
 your own life. 
 
CHAP T E R I 
 
 T was June ; hazy, hot, volup- 
 tuous, with just a hint in the 
 clouds piling like pillows of 
 
 _ down behind the Western 
 
 bourne that upon them Thunder and 
 Storm were sleeping. 
 
 Just here the trees opened a little on 
 the lower side of the terrace and she could 
 see far down the mountain slope and off 
 over the cities and fields of the plain. Lazy 
 with the heat her horse stopped; or per- 
 haps horses also like beautiful views. Be it 
 as you please, here they paused and gazed 
 downward. Then occurred that which to 
 
lo The Natural Man 
 
 her seemed as a vision, a phantasy. 
 
 There was a clatter of hoofs below, 
 beating the still air vividly, and along the 
 open space of red road down there, perhaps 
 one hundred yards away, flew a naked 
 horse, that is saddleless, bridleless, and on 
 his back a naked man, or nearly so, waving 
 a green branch. Hardly had he disappeared 
 behind the thick shade of overarching 
 trees before she doubted her eyes, so like 
 a relief on an ancient tomb had seemed the 
 muscular figure clinging with sinewy legs 
 to the glossy steed, vine-crowned and 
 branch-laden, cumbered with no garments. 
 
 "There are no demi-gods in these 
 days," she said. 
 
 But just then came a shrill neigh from 
 the right hand distance, and a nickering 
 whinney from the left, and out into the 
 open on the same track came a young colt. 
 
The Natural Man ii 
 
 all legs, tail, & outstretched neck, bolting 
 with all the wasteful speed of his youth 
 after his retreating dam. 
 
 " There must be something real about 
 it. Jack," she said, stroking the mane of 
 her steed, who was much interested, ears 
 a-prick, " One may imagine Greek heroes, 
 but horse-babies are too ridiculous to be 
 anything but facts." 
 
 Jack did not resent this insult to his 
 race, but turning one eye and ear back at 
 the sound of her voice deliberately took 
 up the ascent once more. 
 
 Many women would have feared, and 
 with dread visions of escaped lunatics 
 would have returned home headlong, but 
 this young woman, haughty and reserved 
 as her acquaintances deemed her, was 
 withal dauntless and daring, and had no 
 tremors. 
 
la The Natural Man 
 
 But perhaps two hours later she decid- 
 ed that she had lost her way. Not that 
 there was aught alarming in that, either, for 
 it was not yet noon ^ she had only to take 
 any downward track to get to the low land 
 where some main road could be found. 
 Accordingly she took the first down trail, 
 a mere woodcutter's track, and after awhile 
 came to a better road, and then to a cross- 
 ing. Here Jack shied, and she started, for 
 there, on a bank, half in the sun, asleep, 
 lay her demi-god again. He was not nude 
 completely, for close-fitting breeches of 
 corduroy reached to his knees, but elsewise 
 he wore nothing but a wreath of wild grape 
 leaves on his broad brow, plumed with one 
 barred owl-feather. Brown as a nut with 
 sun-tan, his carven muscles stood out 
 sculpturesquely as he lay on his back, one 
 knee drawn up, one hand under his head. 
 
The Natural Man 13 
 
 the other thrust into a great pouch at his 
 girdle. His hair was heavy, as always with 
 those who eschew hats, and a little curly, 
 his face bearded, strong and not unhand- 
 some, his flesh clean. 
 
 Undoubtedly he was crazy, but he was 
 picturesque, and she was an artist and not 
 afraid ; besides he was not mounted now, 
 and Jack was fleet. She looked ^ admired, 
 and even penciled a little sketch on her 
 note book. But before more than the face 
 was done Jack grew suspicious, snorted, 
 and stamped on the stony road-bed, and 
 the demi-god woke, stared at her in a little 
 confusion, reddened, and sat up. Perhaps 
 even a Greek would have blushed to awake 
 in a wood and see a haughty young wom- 
 an, elegantly attired, regarding him with 
 just a trace of amusement gleaming under 
 her level brows and slipping away a note 
 
14 The Natural Man 
 
 book and pencil. 
 
 " Excuse me, but will you tell me 
 which road to take to go to Rippleford? " 
 
 He stood up with a light bound, and 
 his voice was gentle and refined. 
 
 " Certainly ! I will with pleasure. But 
 neither of these. You must go with me 
 down this one a little way, and then I will 
 put you on the Rippleford road." 
 
 Putting his fingers to his lips he blew 
 a piercing whistle, and out of the woods, 
 from somewhere, came cantering the black 
 mare she had seen and the gawky colt. 
 Braided into the mane and flowing tail of 
 the mother-horse were several feathers, 
 Indian-wise. Trotting by her side with one 
 hand on her mane the demi-god leapt on 
 her back, and guiding her by a motion of 
 his hand, rode alongside of his questioner. 
 
 "Now if you will come with me, please, 
 
The Natural Man 15 
 
 I will show you the road." 
 
 " Mercy '* thinks this daring young 
 woman, " I am in his power now, I must 
 humor him, anyway. He has a splendid 
 torso, too, and what a calf and instep. I 
 would like to model them." 
 
 But she said nothing, and the silence 
 was a little constrained. 
 
 He rode just ahead, &' the colt ran in 
 front and teased the mare, made her prance 
 and curvet, but the little thing was afraid 
 of Jack. 
 
 After going a little way they came in 
 sight of a small valley with the mountain 
 very steep on the North- West, a beautiful 
 park-like vale with much green grass 
 growing in fine turf, and beautiful clumps 
 of noble trees, a brook in the centre, and 
 cows and goats grazing. And on the side 
 near her was a stout fence made of stumps 
 
i6 The Natural Man 
 
 and pleached trees. 
 
 " What a lovely place," she said, ''who 
 owns it?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Poor, naked man, he is very crazy," 
 she thought. 
 
 "Indeed! you are very fortunate." 
 
 He gave her a smile, a quick gleam of 
 white teeth under a long mustache. 
 
 " Yes, I am the happiest of men." 
 
 A pleasant form for insanity to take, if 
 one must have it. She must humor it. 
 
 "And these cattle, they are yours?" 
 
 "All mine." 
 
 A little more silence, ^ then they came 
 to where a road seemied to come out of 
 this vale and off to the eastward. 
 
 "This is the road to Rippleford." 
 
 " Oh thank you! I am greatly obliged." 
 
 "No, on the contrary I owe you 
 
The Natural Man 17 
 
 thanks for the pleasure you have given 
 me. 
 
 He looked very sane, with a pleasant, 
 clear light in his eyes, and she smiled a 
 little. 
 
 "Then even the happiest of men can 
 recieve an additional pleasure ? " 
 
 " Why, certainly, who more so! — to 
 him that hath shall be given!" 
 
 " But I spoiled your nap." 
 
 He reddened again and murmured like 
 a shy schoolboy, apologetically: 
 
 "It was so beautiful there, and so de- 
 lightful to lie on one's back and look up 
 into the sky, and hear the bees murmur 
 in the tree tops." 
 
 " It was indeed, I quite envied you, 
 for I used to do just that when a child." 
 
 Instantly his shyness vanished in the 
 enthusiasm of one who utters a favorite 
 
i8 The Natural Man 
 
 thought. 
 
 " And why do you not do it now? You 
 would enjoy it just as much now as you 
 did then. Nay more, for the adult mind 
 can interweave more charms, can be more 
 consciously happy, can receive more wide 
 delights than the child mind. Why do you, 
 why does every one, pine for the joys of 
 childhood and yet refuse the means that 
 childhood instinctively takes to attain its 
 pleasures ? " 
 
 He was warm with enthusiasm, his 
 eyes flashing, his sensitive features glow- 
 ingly expressive, but he did not look in 
 the least maniacal, ^ his voice was gentle 
 almost to music, and yet low as if used 
 mainly in the utterance of murmured soli- 
 loquies. 
 
 But she thought of herself, the flattered 
 and stately Miss Earle, asleep on her back 
 
The Natural Man 19 
 
 in the sun, gazed at possibly by a naked 
 demi-god on a black mare, and she replied 
 very coldly. 
 
 " No, I thank you. I do not think the 
 attitude would become me." 
 
 A smile came into his eyes, twitched 
 the corners of his mustache ^ ran all over 
 his face. He was actually laughing at her. 
 
 She opened her eyes a little with a 
 haughty flash of indignation. 
 
 " Good morning, sir, I must be going 
 now! 
 
 He leapt from his horse, and running 
 to the roadside plucked from the grass a 
 bunch of wild strawberries and, running 
 beside her horse as she moved off, held 
 them up. 
 
 " I was rude," he said, " please forgive 
 me and take these." 
 
 His face was so contrite, ^ his action 
 
10 The Natural Man 
 
 so spontaneous (besides, she remembered 
 that she must humor him) that she said, 
 
 " Oh, it is of no consequence. Thank 
 you, these are dehcious." 
 
 "You are very generous," he murmur- 
 ed, "good morning. This road will take 
 you direct to Rippleford. If ever you come 
 this way again, come and see my home." 
 
 And leaping on his mare, who had 
 trotted behind him Hke a dog, he turned, 
 and galloped toward his valley. In spite of 
 herself she could not help turning Jack 
 and looking after him. The black mare 
 flew toward the fence and cleared it like a 
 bird, while after came the nickering colt. 
 He could not jump the fence, too, but as 
 the outside was less steep than the inside, 
 he found a place where he could clamber 
 up to the top of the wall, and from here, 
 leaping down, he was soon tearing after his 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 21 
 
 dam. And the last that Theodora Earle 
 saw of them, all three rode with a splash 
 into the brook, where the mare commenced 
 to drink, and the man, the owlplume nod- 
 ding on his head, sat on her side, plashing 
 his bare feet in the cool stream. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 T was the office of the Ripple- 
 ford Record. 
 
 Such places are all unbeau- 
 tlful and they are all alike. 
 But the editor washed his inky fingers 
 and set out his two chairs, for he had lady 
 visitors- his cousin Edith, with the flaxen 
 hair, and her dark friend, Theodora Earle. 
 "Oh, indeed. Cousin Sax is very am- 
 bitious," Edith was saying, " he aspires to 
 have the best country paper in the State. 
 Paid contributors, you know, ^ that sort 
 of thing " 
 
 Saxon Ward laughed. "Yes, Cousin 
 
24 The Natural Man 
 
 Edith writes me stories sometimes." 
 
 " O my stories are nothing. But you 
 really have one great contributor." 
 
 " Forrest Westwood, you mean. Yes, 
 he is a genius in his way. I must show you 
 the little poem he brought me in yesterday. 
 Said he had just composed it. Came tear- 
 ing up here on a gallop, as usual, i^ away 
 again in a cloud of dust. What a happy, 
 healthy vision he is, a living pi6lure. And 
 Blackbird looks just as happy, as she car- 
 ries him, and almost as intelligent." 
 
 " Oh Cousin Sax, let me see the poem, 
 please, right away! " 
 
 " Well, its right there in the desk, on 
 top, under the paper weight. You must 
 see this man before you leave. Miss Earle. 
 As an artist, you would appreciate him. I 
 would wager considerable that he is the 
 most picturesque man in America. Thoreau 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 ^5 
 
 was nothing beside him." 
 
 "Indeed! tell me about him." 
 " Well, he was born not far from here, 
 on a common country farm. Nothing re- 
 markable about the Westwoods, generally. 
 Just farmers, but perhaps a little more 
 given to wood craft than most of their sort. 
 His father died from a carriage accident 
 [which also injured his mother] when he 
 was a mere boy. He grew up after his own 
 devices, and was always peculiar. Always 
 wandering in the woods, or reading, or 
 saying strange, startling, beautiful things. 
 He took a long trip when a lad, with an 
 uncle, up in the Adirondacks and Canada, 
 and again out West. Another time he went 
 off and spent a year among the Indians. 
 But his mother became an invalid, as a 
 result of her injury, & he came back and 
 stayed with her till she died. She idolized 
 
26 The Natural Man 
 
 him, and gave him his way in everything, 
 and as a boy he laid his plans to be what 
 he is now. He obtained the gift from her 
 of a tradl of wild forest land on the moun- 
 tains, &' made a bargain with a wood-cutter 
 by which the majority of the trees were to 
 be cleaned away, stumps and all, the 
 stumps to be piled on the borders as a 
 fence, in return for the valuable timber cut 
 down. The wood-cutter had the best of it, 
 financially, but Westwood was level-head- 
 ed, too, in his way. He had gone over the 
 ground &' marked all the trees he wanted 
 saved, and a landscape gardener could not 
 have done it with more judgment. He 
 sowed all the clear ground between the 
 clumps of trees with grass, and from time 
 to time set out fruit ^ nut trees and grape 
 vines and flowering shrubs; and by the 
 time he became a man and was ready to 
 
The Natural Man ay 
 
 occupy it he had a perfect American Eden 
 there, a lovely park, which was part mea- 
 dow, part pasture and part orchard. After 
 his mother died he sold the home farm, 
 moved to this park in the forest, and gave 
 himself up entirely to the realization of 
 his eccentric fancies. His pet doctrine is 
 that in becoming civilized human beings 
 have forgotten the art of happiness, which, 
 he maintains, can only be found in living 
 like a child and close to nature. To be a 
 sort of gentle savage, or refined barbarian, 
 or, as he would call it, "a natural man," is 
 his ideal. He rather despises property, ^ 
 gave away most of his to a widowed aunt 
 who was left poor with a very large family. 
 He lives mainly on his own game, milk, 
 eggs, fruits and honey, and by selling his 
 surplus of these, carving nick-nacks to sell 
 to summer visitors, ^ writing for my paper 
 
28 The Natural Man 
 
 he has a small income. But his habits are 
 so simple he has more than he wants, and 
 considers himself rather a rich man. His 
 one dissipation is the purchase of books/' 
 
 "All this is very interesting, but does 
 not prove him so very unique." 
 
 " No, but he is unique, nevertheless. 
 Imagine a man, in conversation naive as a 
 child, sometimes shy and sensitive, some- 
 times bold, eloquent and enthusiastic, but 
 always saying the most startling things in 
 the most sincere and persuasive way ; a 
 poet; a sculptor, or at least a carver; a 
 musician who wanders thro' the deep 
 woods at midnight and flutes divinely to 
 the moon ; who reads Greek and Latin ; 
 who wears no more clothing than the 
 weather, and Society's prejudices force him 
 to; who sleeps out doors in summer and 
 often in winter; who hunts with the bow 
 
The Natural Man 29 
 
 and arrow; who rides bareback; carries 
 great weights on his head ; lives in a half- 
 cave and in the midst of a happy family of 
 dogs, goats, cows, horses, squirrels, snakes, 
 birds and bees; is as frankly pagan as a 
 Greek, and a gentle contemnor of all con- 
 ventionalities and sacred institutions/' 
 " Now, Theodora, listen to this! " 
 
 TRIO LET, 
 
 To lie on one s back and look at the sky 
 Up thro' the branches ^ leaves of geeen! 
 
 Why^ I used to do that when only so high — 
 Lie on my back and look up at the sky. 
 At the white and the blue, and wish I 
 could fly: 
 
 It gives one a feeling so great and serene 
 'To lie on one's back and gaze at the sky, 
 Up thro' the branches ^ leaves of green. 
 
JO The Natural Man 
 
 "There, isn*t that just lovely!" 
 
 "It is quite pretty." 
 
 " Quite pretty! I say it is perfectly 
 beautiful ! " 
 
 "You must praise generously, Miss 
 Earle, for Cousin Edith has quite lost her 
 romantic heart to my picturesque friend." 
 
 "Did you say he composed that yes- 
 terday? " 
 
 " So he said. But what makes you look 
 so peculiarly?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing, only I feel that I could, 
 you have told me so much, you know, 
 sketch your hero, lying on his back on the 
 bracken. Let me try." 
 
 (Pulls out her note book and begins to 
 make marks rapidly, concealing the page 
 from the others.) 
 
 " There, isn't that like him? Am I not 
 a seer? " 
 
The Natural Man 31 
 
 "Splendid! Miss Earle, why, it is a 
 portrait! " 
 
 " Why, Theodora! how could you do 
 it!" 
 
 Just then came the clatter of hoofs 
 without, an anxious neigh, and a nickering 
 whinney. 
 
 "Speak of the devil" — said Saxon 
 Ward, "come here, girls!" 
 
 Adown the village street toward them, 
 reeling rhythmically in an ambling pace, 
 came Blackbird, with Westwood on her 
 back, and the ubiquitous, leggy colt. Evi- 
 dently both mare and master had on their 
 society attire, for she had a panther skin 
 surcingled on with a broad horsehair cinch, 
 in lieu of saddle; and he wore Indian leg- 
 gins and moccasins, and a sort of vest, or 
 rather shirt, sleeveless, with large armholes 
 and cut low ^ square in the neck, made from 
 
32 The Natural Man 
 
 numberless mole skins, so neatly sewn to- 
 gether that the outside was as unbroken as 
 velvet ^ softer than any woven nap could 
 have been. On his head were now no vine- 
 leaves, but the owlplume twirled in the 
 braided lock, and on his back hung a bow 
 and quiver of arrows. Behind the proces- 
 sion, at an easy jog-trot, side by side like 
 a well-matched team, lolling red tongues 
 and hanging long velvety ears, came two 
 little beagle hounds. 
 
 It was a pretty pageant, seen in the 
 long rays of the declining sun. 
 
 In his right hand Westwood carried 
 something. Seeing the heads of Ward and 
 Edith out of the window he sprang up, 
 standing, on the back of Blackbird, start- 
 ing her into a canter, ^ came up swinging 
 a great hawk, transfixed with an arrow, 
 around his head with a very boyish air 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 33 
 
 and shout of triumph. But catching sight 
 of Miss Earle's face beyond he dropped 
 back to a sitting posture in some confusion, 
 and with such precipitation that he nearly 
 lost his seat altogether. 
 
 "There, Theo," scolded Edith, "I 
 wanted him to show off, &' he commenced 
 beautifully, and you frightened him so that 
 he nearly tumbled down." 
 
 "Well, that would have been showing 
 ^wouldn^t itP " 
 
 " Be still ! you always were a fright 
 anyway. Mr. Westwood I want to make 
 you acquainted with my very dear friend, 
 Miss Theodora Earle of Boston.'' 
 
 Westwood bowed to this head-long 
 introduction, and then, leaping off Black- 
 bird, came striding in with the two little 
 hounds at his heel. 
 
 " I think Miss Earle and I have met 
 
34 The Natural Man 
 
 before." 
 
 "Oh the horrid, deceitful thing! — 
 Why Mr. Westwood, here she has been 
 letting Cousin Sax and me tell her all 
 about you for the last hour, as if she had 
 never heard of you, and now it appears you 
 were acquainted." 
 
 "Talking about me!" — began West- 
 wood, embarrassed again. 
 
 But Miss Earle came to his assistance. 
 
 "Indeed I never heard of this gentle- 
 man before. But I met him day before 
 yesterday, while riding on the mountain, 
 and he directed me to Rippleford. He was 
 very kind. So you see there was no decep- 
 tion, except a little bit of mystification 
 about the picture which I would have 
 cleared up before long. You see I first saw 
 Mr. Westwood — " 
 
 "Asleep in the sun, Til wager! That*s 
 
The Natural Man 35 
 
 how you got his picture ! Forrest, that's a 
 good one on you! Fairly caught that time." 
 
 "Yes, he was asleep, and I had just 
 time to sketch his face when he woke. It 
 was very rude, Mr. Westwood, forgive 
 me. 
 
 " I will forgive you, if you will accept 
 my invitation and come to Vale Sunrise 
 and see my home." 
 
 " 'Vale Sunrise,' a pretty name! — is 
 that the name of your home? 
 
 "No, Vale Sunrise is the name of my 
 farm. Cave-Gables is the name of my 
 home." 
 
 "The names are a temptation in them- 
 selves. I will surely come, some day, if 
 Mr. Ward or Edith will go with me." 
 
 " It is a great honor. Miss Earle," 
 said Saxon Ward, "invitations to visit 
 Cave Gables are not common, I assure 
 
^6 The Natural Man 
 
 you."T|" I believe that, ^ I am very grate- 
 ful, Mr. Westwood." 
 
 " But see here, Theo, I have a crow 
 to pick with you. To think of your having 
 those adventures with Mr. Westwood on 
 the mountain, two days ago, and not a 
 word to me — two days ! just think of it. 
 Ah, you are a faithless friend." 
 
 " Miss Earle is not such a chatter box 
 as you. Cousin Edith." 
 
 " Oh Cousin Sax! — how mean of you. 
 Tm not a chatter box, am I, Mr. West- 
 wood?" 
 
 "No indeed. Miss Lyle. It is certainly 
 not boxed'^ 
 
 " Mr. Westwood ! — and I appealed 
 to you ! Very well, I will punish you sir, 
 and vindicate myself, by not speaking to 
 you for a whole week — sometime." 
 
 " What beautiful dogs you have, Mr. 
 
The Natural Man 37 
 
 Westwood. I am very fond of dogs. Come 
 here doggies, I want to pat you!" 
 
 The little beagles, lying side by side 
 between Westwood's feet, picked up their 
 ears at this, and wagged their tails a bit by 
 way of canine courtesy, but did not other- 
 wise move, except to look from Miss Earle 
 to their master. 
 
 " It's all right, babies, she is a friend. 
 Go to her." 
 
 Then up got the little houndkins and side 
 by side, as usual, went to Miss Earle, and 
 received the caresses of the two young 
 ladies with evident delight. But at a 
 "Hist ! " and beckoned finger from their 
 master, they instantly returned, and laid 
 down by his side as before. 
 
 " They would take a prize at any show, 
 Mr. Westwood." 
 
 " Yes, the rearing and training of bea- 
 
38 The Natural Man 
 
 gles has been a passion in my family for 
 at least a century, and we have a strain of 
 our own. The Westwood beagles are well 
 known; for beauty, intelligence, docility 
 and tenacity of scent there are none better, 
 and I can sell my pups for a fancy price. 
 I have two puppies now at home, unsold. 
 Bell, here, is the mother, and the father a 
 pedigreed prize winner." 
 
 " Indeed, then please consider them 
 sold to me ^ train them for me as you see 
 fit. I want them for my little brother in 
 Boston. What are these dogs named?" 
 "Bayer and Bellt. Bay ^ Bell for short." 
 " Mr. Westwood is a sort of a baron, 
 Theo, and his dogs are his henchmen and 
 retainers. He has two to guard his castle, 
 two to herd his flocks and two to hunt 
 with — and usually some puppies for 
 squires." 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 39 
 
 " Where did you get the hawk, For- 
 rest, and what are you going to do with 
 him!" 
 
 " Yesterday he killed a hen of mine. 
 And the day before one. And I swore 
 vengeance ^ lay in wait for him. But his 
 eyes were anointed with the oil of prudence 
 and he saw me. And today I took The- 
 ocritus and went up to the Swallow's Nest 
 to comfort my soul with bucolic poetry. 
 There hiding, my enemy unsuspe(^tingly 
 came, and wheeled in slow rings just below 
 me, always looking down at the hens; and 
 when the moment came I rained one of 
 my gentle shafts upon him so that he fell, 
 spirally down-whirling, into the very 
 midst of those he would have slain, and - 
 I just picked him up ^ brought him here. 
 I didn't know then what it was for, but I 
 know now that the gods made me carry it 
 
40 The Natural Man 
 
 so as to have something wherewith to ap- 
 pease the just wrath of Miss Lyle and 
 persuade her to speak to me as of yore, 
 without the direful silence of one whole 
 week spoken of by Edith the prophet." 
 
 "O thank you, Mr. Westwood, how 
 good you are! I will have it stuffed and 
 mounted. But you know I could never 
 have kept that threat, for I am 3. chatter 
 box, and that's the truth." 
 
 "Well, I must go now. My kine Vith 
 trailing feet &* shambling gait' will be com- 
 ing in ^ lowing to be milked. Goodnight, 
 Miss Earle. And you, my good friends, 
 come with her, as soon as you can, and 
 spend the day with me. Good night all. 
 Here babies, — heel ! — march! " 
 
 And in another moment Blackbird was 
 skimming toward the setting sun, bearing 
 on her back this strange man, along the 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 41 
 
 dusty village street, the owl-plume flutter- 
 ing above, and the little hounds, shoulder 
 to shoulder, running hard behind. 
 
 " He has to dress more when he comes 
 to the village," Saxon said, "for the village 
 fathers were moved to righteous indigna- 
 tion, once, and arrested him for indecent 
 nakedness." 
 
 "What do you think of him, Theo?" 
 
 "His strangeness is all that you des- 
 cribed it, certainly. But I don't know 
 whether I like him or not, yet. When I 
 first saw him I thought he was crazy. 
 
 " Everybody does, I guess." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 UST as Vale Sunrise became 
 aware of its name that sum- 
 mer morning, came into it 
 from the eastward three riders, 
 long shadows going far before, their horses 
 hoofs brushing dew from the herbage. 
 
 They were on the trail leading from 
 the gate to Cave Gables. 
 
 "Ah, there it is!" said Saxon Ward, 
 as a turn in the trail revealed a tall Gothic 
 gable on a terrace at the foot of the moun- 
 tain. Between where they stood and the 
 terrace was an intervale^ as the pleasant 
 old word is, of alluvial land and in this a 
 
44 The Natural Man 
 
 narrow winding lake, made, evidently, by 
 damming the brook which flowed from the 
 terrace, and a little unfenced garden about 
 which patroled two black and white collies 
 evidently to keep off the cows, goats and 
 other creatures which might destroy its 
 succulent products. 
 
 " How like Arcadia! " said Miss Earle, 
 as she dwelt on the beauties of the scene — 
 the sparkling dew, the long, cool shadows, 
 the morning light on the dimpling lake, the 
 browsing goats and kine. 
 
 " It is Arcadia," said Edith, ardently. 
 " See, there goes Forrest now! " 
 
 Up the path on the terrace they saw 
 him mounting, balancing a vessel of milk 
 on his head, his two little hounds behind. 
 Just then the collies gave warning, a thun- 
 derous reply came from mightier canine 
 throats at the dwelling, ^ the beagles and 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 45 
 
 puppies added their shriller notes to the 
 din. Forrest set down his milk, said some- 
 thing to the dogs, and then, with a whoop, 
 came bounding down the terrace (sf along 
 the trail toward them with great leaps like 
 a boy. It was noticeable, the discipline of 
 his dogs. The collies barked but did not 
 leave their charge, the beagles barked but 
 did not offer to quit the milk they had 
 been told to guard. The guardian mastiffs 
 did not appear in sight. 
 
 In a moment Forrest, flushed, laugh- 
 ing, the morning light shining on his bare, 
 brown sides, was with them, holding out 
 the hand of welcome. 
 
 "So good of you to come, and at this 
 time. The morning hours are so beautiful. 
 They are my hours. I am "at home," as 
 the fashionable people say, at sunrise." 
 
 "I knew that," said Edith, "and so 
 
4-6 The Natural Man 
 
 these lazy folk were routed up unmercifully 
 this morning,^ forced to come,willy-nilly." 
 
 As they rode on, he trotted by their 
 side with bare feet in the dew. He had 
 not even a chaplet or an owl-plume on this 
 time, nothing but the corduroy trunk and 
 pouch, but the lithe muscles worked beau- 
 tifully. As he ran he plucked flowers and 
 handed them up to the ladies. 
 
 " I have just finished milking" he said, 
 as they crossed a little rustic bridge at the 
 head of the pond. " The cattle come up 
 here in the morning about the water and 
 then I milk what I wish. Some one or 
 other comes from the Red Farm ^ milks 
 the rest. They are gone now, for I stopped 
 after milking to catch a couple of fish." 
 
 "The Red Farm is half a mile away," 
 explained Saxon, "and the people, there, 
 buy Forrest^s milk, and bring him butter, 
 
The Natural Man 47 
 
 bread and whatever of that sort he needs." 
 
 "Commerce even in Vale Sunrise,'* 
 laughed Forrest, as he picked up his milk 
 pail ^ balanced it on his head with Hin- 
 doo dexterity, while the little dogs wagged 
 tails of welcome to the visitors. "You see 
 I need quite a good deal of milk, myself, 
 and my dogs and chickens take more." 
 
 " And do you do all this work before 
 breakfast? " 
 
 " Not exactly. I get a pint of warm 
 goat's milk from the first udder I come to 
 in the morning, and after that breakfast is 
 a leisurely matter, perhaps, in the fruit 
 season, plucked from the vines 1^ bushes." 
 
 They were now on the terrace, and the 
 place, to Miss Earle at least, was full of 
 interest. Cave Gables seemed rightly 
 named, for three gables, one east, one west, 
 one south, lifted above three cave like 
 
48 The Natural Man 
 
 openings in a pile of rocks over which 
 vines and bushes grew in wild confusion. 
 In front a grove of stately tall trees on the 
 level terrace, between the trunks of which 
 the entire Vale could be seen in all its park- 
 like loveHness, the brook as a silver thread, 
 the lake flashing in the sun, the forest- 
 covered hills surrounding. East of the 
 dwelling the brook came roaring down the 
 steep, across the terrace, and again in a 
 series of cataract leaps down the terrace to 
 the intervale. On the further side they saw 
 poultry under the trees, evidently dwelling 
 in other caverns there, and stands of bees, 
 in primitive "gums," under a projecting 
 ledge of rock. On the hither side, near the 
 eastern gable, the waters of the brook were 
 joined by those of a spring coming out of 
 the mountain. On each side of the open 
 south door of Cave Gables lay two im- 
 
The Natural Man 49 
 
 mense mastiffs, tawny as lionesses, thun- 
 dering mightily at them till their master 
 spoke, then coming civilly enough, but 
 with dignity, to welcome and be petted. 
 
 He turned their horses loose to roam 
 at will, and then led them west, a rod or 
 two, close to the mountain steep, where 
 the view was specially fine and a large flat 
 rock lay level on four others under a 
 mighty shagbark. 
 
 " This is my summer table, for perhaps 
 you know that in the season of the sun I 
 live without doors/* 
 
 He ran and brought a bundle of furs 
 to make them seats, and then, excusing 
 himself, went off with his milk. They saw 
 him pour some of it into a carven trough, 
 whereat all the dogs and a huge black cat 
 came and drank their fill, ^ then wade the 
 brook and give to the hens, and place the 
 
50 The Natural Man 
 
 remainder in a cool crock in the spring. 
 Always, they noticed, he waded the brook 
 instead of using the stepping stones or 
 leaping across. While he was gone they 
 discovered his summer bedroom — a bed 
 of warm dry sand close under the moun- 
 tain side; a projecting rock, high, over- 
 fringed with vines, keeping off the rain. A 
 pillow of balsam fir, a red blanket, a bow 
 and quiver — that was the furniture. 
 
 Carved on the soft sandstone was this 
 poem — 
 
 SULTRT SUN RISING. 
 
 Praise me the summer mornings^ beautifuly 
 Sultry, and fullest of passionate life: 
 The hot sun, like a young lover, waking. 
 Leaping down on the fair earth, amorous; 
 'The dew on the grass bright like a bride's eyes; 
 The flies buzzing dreamily, dreamily. 
 
The Natural Man 51 
 
 A cool deliciousness tinct with fire; 
 Pricked by desire an indolent softness; 
 Bliss of the naked flesh; kisses that sting 
 Of sun and air on the skin. 
 
 O praise me 
 The summer mornings, sultry and beautiful. 
 Great with Greek spirit, animal, innocent. 
 
 He came up, now, and began to make 
 a fire in a fire place of stones, semi-circular, 
 opposite this "bed-room." 
 
 "We found your nest while you were 
 gone, " Edith called, gayly. 
 
 "Yes? But did you notice that there 
 were other nests, above mine, along the 
 under edge of the rockP" 
 
 They had not noticed that. 
 
 "They are friends of mine, those eave- 
 swallows, ^ we do not disturb each other. 
 
52 The Natural Man 
 
 They make pleasant little noises in the 
 evenings, while I lie there and look out at 
 the stars, or when I get up to replenish 
 the fire on cool nights.'* 
 
 " Do the collies guard your garden day 
 and night?" 
 
 "No, at night the beagles take their 
 place, and then the collies come and sleep 
 with me or by the fire/' 
 
 " Do you always sleep here ? " 
 
 " O no. If the whim seizes me I take 
 my blanket ^ wander where I will, sleep- 
 ing wherever I stop. On moonlight nights 
 I wander till morning, sometimes, & sleep 
 in the daytime to make up." 
 
 While talking he drew from his pouch 
 a bundle of damp moss and opening this 
 they saw two fine black bass, still breath- 
 ing. He went to the brook, killed and 
 cleaned them, and then spitted them on 
 
The Natural Man 53 
 
 sharp white sticks inclined to the fire, turn- 
 ing them at intervals. 
 
 Now he set the table. He spread a 
 " table cloth" over the rock and it was a 
 wonder to them. Made of white, soft buck- 
 skin, fringed with knife cuts, and decorated 
 Indian-wise, with pictures of fruit, game, 
 campfires and sylvan feasts. 
 
 They were interested &' amused to see 
 him fish his table utensils out of the waters 
 of the brook, and at their nature too. All 
 were home-made, except the knives. Forks 
 of hand carved bone and horn. Bowls and 
 trenchers and spoons of bass-wood, beech- 
 wood, tulipwood and maple; carved, all of 
 them, in dainty and artistic fashion. Cups 
 of horn, gourd, ^ cocoa-shell, carved also; 
 the gourds having evidently been cut 
 while growing so that the marks and pat- 
 tern grew into them. And there were even 
 
54 The Natural Man 
 
 individual butter dishes, made from mus- 
 sel-shells not carved, but highly polished, 
 displaying the nacre. The two that he set 
 before the ladies had real pearls attached, 
 encrusted in their mother. Not a single 
 thing of glass, or china, or crockery of any 
 sort. 
 
 " Is the brook your pantry? " 
 
 "It is at least my cupboard. You see 
 I do not like to wash dishes, so after every 
 meal I put all into the brook, there to 
 wash till called for, and I have plenty so 
 any refractory dish may have enough. And 
 the little minnows and craw-fishes and 
 cutting sands and whipping waters make 
 all clean for me, at last." 
 
 It was so droll that they all laughed 
 merrily, and fell to admiring the dishes. 
 
 Everything was in harmony. There 
 were fresh butter from the Red Farm on 
 
The Natural Man ^^ 
 
 great cool cabbage leaves, strawberries on 
 vine leaves, bread on a tray of birch bark, 
 cream in a calabash, honey-comb in a hol- 
 low stone, a bouquet of wild dog-roses and 
 ferns wrapped in moss and set in a turtle 
 shell. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped in comical dismay. 
 
 "How stupid I am! I never asked if 
 you breakfasted before you came?" 
 
 Saxon laughed, and Edith said mis- 
 chievously: 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " For shame! Edith," said Theodora, 
 " No, Mr. Westwood. We knew you 
 would want to feast us and we took only 
 a cup of coffee before starting." 
 
 "There it is again!" he cried, "coffee! 
 — and I never thought of it. ^ou see, I 
 never drink any of these things, ^ forget 
 others do. But perhaps I have something 
 
56 The Natural Man 
 
 you will like." ^ And bounding into his 
 dwelling [for he seldom seemed to walk 
 anywhere, but ran or leaped like a roe- 
 buck] he brought out several long-necked 
 bottles in his arms. 
 
 "Sorry. In this case I had to use glass. 
 I have to compromise sometimes with 
 civilization, ^ there really seems nothing 
 in nature to take the place of a bottle 
 where air must be excluded. Here is un- 
 fermented wine — this from the wild grape, 
 this from wild raspberries, this from wild 
 blackberries, take your choice. Every sum- 
 mer I gather great quantities of wild fruit 
 and take it to the Red Farm and they can 
 it for me on shares, or make wine. Only 
 theirs they ferment." 
 
 It was a strange wild feast, which those 
 visitors never forgot. Sitting on furs 
 around a rock, eating those simple, delici- 
 
The Natural Man 57 
 
 cious viands and drinking pure fruit juice, 
 while the birds sang over and around and 
 the sun peeped in through the branches, 
 and the vale was beautiful before them. 
 
 And strangest of all was that bare- 
 skinned, sun-tanned man, with the knotted 
 muscles, soft voice i^ happy dreaming face. 
 
 The eave swallows flew twittering 
 about their homes, a cat-bird was musically 
 busy in the thicket, a thrush sat fearlessly 
 on her nest anear, while her mate on the 
 dry branch, not twenty yards away, made 
 the air pulse with delicious music; and a 
 grey squirrel ran up to Forrest's hand for 
 crumbs, passing saucily under the beagles* 
 noses, who hardly deigned to notice. And, 
 finally, two little kids came and danced on 
 the rock at the terrace edge. 
 
 It was the Golden Age. 
 
 " Mr. Westwood" said Edith suddenly, 
 
58 The Natural Man 
 
 "you are a professional Natural Man — 
 what are the most natural foods ? " 
 
 He laughed, as he usually did when 
 he spoke, as one might at a favorite child. 
 
 " I fancy, as we are monkey-cousins, 
 that fruits and nuts, after original milk, are 
 the most natural. Eggs are like milk and 
 resemble nuts. After eggs insects &" shell- 
 fish; then fish; then flesh. I forgot herbs, 
 and roots but they are less natural, I 
 fancy, anyway." 
 
 "Insects ! — bugs ! Oh my ! Are we to 
 eat them?" 
 
 " Monkeys are fond of many insects. 
 I suppose that our prejudices cut us ofi^ 
 from much palatable food in that line, for 
 no good reason. Certain grubs are consid- 
 ered a delicacy in some parts of the world, 
 and grasshoppers and locusts are spoken 
 of as delicious by those who have tried 
 
The Natural Man 59 
 
 them." ^ " Ugh ! they may have them." 
 
 " But you do not mention the grains, 
 Mr. Westwood." 
 
 " No, for I fancy they are least natural, 
 except in the milk. " 
 
 "But do you not dislike to kill? "said 
 Theodora. 
 
 " No, my sympathy with nature does 
 not seem to effect me in that way. I have 
 much real fellow feeling with the creatures 
 but that does not lead me to abhor killing. 
 That king bird, hovering so prettily in air, 
 has killed nine flies and a midge since we 
 began talking, & the thrush has killed for 
 his mate a beautiful caterpillar at this 
 instant. Far up the mountain side — there! 
 do you see him poise on that butternut? 
 — is a red squirrel who will slip into the 
 first unguarded nest he finds and suck the 
 eggs or the brains of the nestlings as he 
 
6o The Natural Man 
 
 would a nut." T[ "I see, Nature sets you 
 a savage example, surely. But is there 
 nothing in nature that moves to mercy and 
 peace and comradeship?" 
 
 " Certainly, but within the species as a 
 rule. To your species loyalty, to other 
 species war, is the law of nature for gre- 
 garious animals. I belong to the human 
 species and to men I give that sympathy, 
 love ^ fellowship which my nature urges." 
 
 " But does it not make the heart hard 
 to one*s fellows to kill anything? " 
 
 "No. I never had a hard heart. I do 
 not like to give pain. I like to kill instant- 
 ly. But I never fought with a man in my 
 life, or wanted to injure one. Nor have I 
 ever seen any evidence to show that hun- 
 ters or butchers were murderous or cruel 
 toward men. All this talk, too, that diet 
 affects morals is mere superstition. A poor- 
 
The Natural Man 6i 
 
 ly-nourished man is always irritable, that 
 is all, but cruelty ^ mercy are matters of 
 education and innate disposition, not of 
 beans or beef." 
 
 "True," said Edith, "I know Mrs. 
 Pearson, who lives on hot water and raw 
 beef. She is the gentlest woman I know, a 
 Quaker, i^ a fanatic on cruelty to animals." 
 "What is your doctrine of diet?" 
 " I can hardly be said to have one, ex- 
 cept simplicity. Still I have a prejudice 
 against the grains. They make people fat, 
 slow, lazy, old too soon. Some roots are 
 as bad. I use a little bread, but not much 
 and that mainly corn bread. Then wheat 
 fields and potato fields are not as poetic 
 as groves and vineyards and orchards. 
 In the summer I live on milk, curds, eggs, 
 fish, berries, fresh vegetables, melons and 
 tomatoes from my garden. In the winter 
 
62 The Natural Man 
 
 and fall and spring I have game, beef, 
 mutton, goat-venison, honey, canned 
 fruits, apples, nuts, milk, eggs and fish as 
 before. There are seasons too of special 
 diet. When strawberries are ripe I live on 
 them almost altogether. The same with 
 huckleberries, raspberries, blackberries, and 
 later grapes, apples, nuts and persimmons. 
 Whatever food nature provides most boun- 
 tifully I make my chief food at that season. 
 There is a time when I live altogether on 
 green corn. 
 
 "You see I want to supply my own 
 wants, mainly, and be self-sufficient, and 
 live simply. I have succeeded better even 
 than Thoreau. He imported rice, sugar, 
 flour, cocoa, salt, rye and Indian meal, 
 molasses, pork, lard, dried apples. None 
 of these things, I, except a little bread or 
 Indian meal at intervals; and besides these 
 
The Natural Man 6^ 
 
 I import butter, some grain for my fowls 
 and cattle, and oil for my lamp. And my 
 exports, you see, are considerable. My 
 surplus milk and eggs, honey, apples, ber- 
 ries, nuts, game, fish, calves, colts, puppies, 
 — why the sale of my puppies alone would 
 more than buy all that I use, except books. 
 "And then, by daring to live the sim- 
 ple, natural, savage life, I save so many 
 expenses. Thoreau bought shoes, I make 
 my own moccasins or sandals and wear 
 those only on rough journeys or in winter. 
 He bought clothes. I make mine of leather 
 or corduroy, for I can tan as well as an 
 Indian, and can cut and sew as well as any 
 tailor, ^ in summer, as you see, the labor 
 in that line is not much. I make my 
 own bows and arrows, boomerangs, 
 raw-hide lassoos, sometimes even bone 
 fish hooks. It is delightful and poetic 
 
64 The Natural Man 
 
 to live the life of the primative man. My 
 arrows are tipped with real Indian-made 
 flints, picked up here and there in many- 
 states, i^ I have two-hundred odd of them. 
 The bow strings are of sinew. I sleep in 
 skins. You see how simple my agriculture 
 is; my grapes and berries grow wild, my 
 apples need little care, my garden is but 
 small and the work in it a delight. In the 
 winter I raise the water of my pond sev- 
 eral feet and that floods many acres where 
 lush grass grows in summer. They come 
 from the Red Farm and help me cut that 
 on shares. Really, the only thing that 
 troubles me is the thought that I am liv- 
 ing here in idyllic happiness while hun- 
 dreds, thousands, yes, millions of my 
 fellows endure miseries I dare not dwell 
 on. I have no more land than an average 
 farmer, and that poor and stony. I do so 
 
The Natural Man 65 
 
 little I am almost ashamed when I com- 
 pare it with the agonized struggle of all 
 about me, and yet I produce more than I 
 want and am actually growing rich on my 
 surplus/' 
 
 And he stopped and looked at them 
 
 with an expression of perplexity, wonder 
 
 and apology on his face almost child-like. 
 
 Saxon Ward was sitting with his chin 
 
 in his hands, staring at him. 
 
 "You always make me feel like a 
 fool ! " he blurted. 
 
 Forrest laughed ^ rolling over on the 
 ground looked up at the sky. 
 
 "I am very different from these others-" 
 " Different ! I should say so. You are 
 the most original man I ever knew, and 
 by George ! you are the sanest. The rest 
 of men are a pack of idiots. You have 
 everything in life worth living for — buoy- 
 
66 The Natural Man 
 
 ant health, leisure, intimacy with Nature, 
 time to read, to think, to realize your own 
 happiness, to work out your own artistic 
 longings, room to grow and be yourself, 
 creature comforts, &' untrammeled liberty- 
 yes the rest of us are all crazy." 
 
 " I think it is this way," said Forrest, 
 tickling the stomach of the great black cat, 
 who lay on her back and alternately purred 
 and lazily struck at him, " I am an egoist. 
 I think only of myself, but other people, 
 I think, make the mistake of forgetting 
 themselves." 
 
 "How do you mean?" 
 
 "Why they no sooner begin to start 
 in life than they begin to think about other 
 things ^ other people more than them- 
 selves. They have what they call 
 'ambitions.' Clothes like other people, 
 houses like other people, food like other 
 
The Natural Man 67 
 
 people, business like other people, opinions 
 like other people, customs, manners, re- 
 ligion, politics all like other people. That's 
 the way the race runs, ^ every man in 
 the race is trying so hard to catch up with 
 the one before him that he has no time to 
 think of himself, except the head man, 
 and he runs so hard to keep ahead that he 
 has no more time for self-acquaintance 
 than the others, and dies struggling just 
 as hard as the last man in the procession. 
 Not one is contented, or can give any sane 
 reason for his 'ambitions.' Now that is a 
 true picture of civilization. Bah ! I would 
 rather be a savage." 
 
 "I see.** 
 
 "But I am not willing to sacrifice my- 
 self to things. / am more than clothes, 
 houses, money, business, reputation, eti- 
 quette, religion, fashion, codes, &' institu- 
 
68 The Natural Man 
 
 tions. To grow like a tree in the forest, 
 bearing my own leaves ^ fruit on my own 
 roots, in my own soil, is my ambition. Let 
 others do as they will, I ask nothing from 
 them but room to grow." 
 
 "I don't see," said Edith, "how you 
 ever came to ihink of such a thing as Hving 
 this way." 
 
 "And I wonder not so much," said 
 Miss Earle, "at the thought as at the 
 courage to live it." 
 
 "Was it Thoreau that suggested it?" 
 said Ward. 
 
 " No. Strangely, I never read Thoreau 
 till I was nearly a man and all this had 
 taken shape. Thoreau encouraged me, that 
 is all. I was an original, headstrong boy, 
 loving to be alone and to think. When I 
 first learned to read I read a book about 
 IndianSj-CatHn's. I decided that the Indian 
 
The Natural Man 69 
 
 was wiser than the white man and made 
 him my teacher. I devoured books only 
 to absorb everything that praised nature, 
 and savage, simple, wise living. Theocritus 
 made a great impression on me, and Epi- 
 curus, and Marcus Aurelius. The Red 
 Man and the Greek were the influences 
 that shaped my soul. It has always seemed 
 to me that when civilization is questioned 
 by the savage it has but a sorry little to 
 say for itself. 
 
 "At any rate I decided it had nothing 
 for me, except books. Art, and a few of its 
 simplest inventions. It did not take much 
 courage. Miss Earle. I decided to be 
 myself when a mere child, and after that 
 everything was easy and inevitable. Had I 
 lived for praise, first, it would have taken 
 courage.'* 
 
 " But come," he said, bounding to his 
 
70 
 
 The Natural Man 
 
 feet with that sudden, elastic springiness 
 so characteristic, " I will show you Cave 
 Gables/* 
 
 And hustling his quaint table ware into 
 the brook, leaving dogs, cat and birds to 
 dispose of the crumbs, he led the way to 
 his odd abode. 
 
CHAPTER IF 
 
 RIGINALLY Cave Gables 
 had been a great rock on the 
 mountain. Crashing down in 
 some ancient landslide it had 
 split crucially ^ now there were four rocks 
 instead of one, lying there on the terrace, 
 close to the steep, ten feet high or so, and 
 rather more feet apart. Forrest had leisure- 
 ly erected a Gothicroof of peeled chestnut 
 logs, clapboarded with riven shingles, 
 and then covered these with earth and 
 stones, brought down from the steep above, 
 till only the sharp gables emerged from 
 the mound. 
 
72 The Natural Man 
 
 A curious building, half art, half na- 
 ture, part cave, part castle, with goats 
 running ^ birds nesting on the roof. The 
 greater part of each gable taken up by a 
 glass window above, and a massive door 
 of hewn planks and wooden hinges below. 
 
 On each side of the front door, in the 
 soft sandstone, were little caverns scooped, 
 where the great mastiffs lay — " Watch " 
 and "Ward." 
 
 Leonine, yellow eyes gleamed kindly 
 at them as they entered and canine tails 
 beat the welcome-tattoo. 
 
 Because of the great trees that grew 
 around it was shady and cool within, in 
 spite of the large, uncurtained windows, 
 and the apex of the Gothic roof was dim 
 and dusky. The house, within, was a Ro- 
 man cross, the long arm to the west, the 
 short ones north, south, and east. Thus, 
 
The Natural Man 73 
 
 though there were no partitions, there were 
 really four rooms, each about ten feet wide, 
 or rather more, with rock walls ten feet 
 high. The floor, — the native soil beaten 
 hard and smooth, swept clean, ^ adorned 
 here and there with skin rugs and curious- 
 ly woven mats. 
 
 " It is Forrest's fancy," explained Saxon 
 Ward to Miss Earle, "that a man's house 
 should correspond to his character. He 
 v/ould have every one be architect, if not 
 the builder, of his home." 
 
 " Nature helped me here, design and 
 build it, too," said Westwood. " I have 
 another whim that every thing in my 
 home should be home-made, or at least, 
 hand-made, and so full of associations. I 
 haven't quite succeeded, but pretty near it." 
 
 The west room attracted them. On one 
 side it was piled high with cord wood. On 
 
74 The Natural Man 
 
 the other was a long closet of wattle or 
 wicker work, a sort of pantry. 
 
 "This is my basket ^ store/' laughed 
 Forrest, opening a wicker door in this and 
 showing them the interior. Very strange 
 ^ primitive it looked — puncheon shelves, 
 barrels made from hollow logs, troughs, 
 wooden bowls, gourds, baskets, nothing 
 modern except glass bottles and fruit cans. 
 
 The north room was the "winter 
 room." No window in this gable, and the 
 whole room had an inner and level ceiling 
 of hewn puncheons laid round side down. 
 This left a loft above, to which there was 
 a ladder from the outside or middle of the 
 cross; the entrance to the room draped 
 with deerskin curtains. 
 
 At the inner end of the "winter room" 
 was a fireplace built of rocks as large as 
 this strange savage could carry and piled 
 
The Natural Man 75 
 
 up not inartistically. Before this a great 
 bear skin rug, ^ above a puncheon mantel 
 and a moose skull and antlers. The fire- 
 dogs, two slender, sooty, horned devils of 
 hammered iron, their tails running back to 
 hold the logs. 
 
 Overhead, suspended from the log 
 ceiling by iron chains, was a rude dragon, 
 also of hammered iron, bearing a lamp in 
 the claws of each front foot. 
 
 "A blacksmith, who has art as well as 
 iron in his blood, made me these for 
 birthgifts,'* Forrest said. 
 
 " Look at his bed ! " cried Edith. 
 
 It was a short, broad canoe of tulip 
 wood, beautifully carved and inlaid with 
 owls, bats, moons, stars i^ other nocturnal 
 devices, the background stained black. 
 This half filled with dried fern leaves, 
 sweet-fern leaves, bay leaves, pine, cedar 
 
76 The Natural Man 
 
 and hemlock needles, and no telling what 
 else woodsy, soft and fragrant. The whole 
 nest completed by beautiful robes of musk- 
 rat, raccoon, mink, and other soft furs, 
 tanned with the hair on, and painted on the 
 inside with Indian pictures, each robe a 
 complete epic of forest life. 
 
 The rest of the furniture consisted 
 of two well filled bookcases with puncheon 
 shelves and buckskin curtains; a three- 
 legged little puncheon writing table; a 
 a great basket armchair made of bulrushes; 
 an immense stuffed buffalo head, used as 
 an ottoman; skin rugs; ^ queer cushions 
 made of skins of raccoons, foxes, etc., 
 heads and tails on, stuffed with wild-fowl 
 feathers. 
 
 Theodora noticed that the pens were 
 wild-goose quills, the inkstand a carved 
 horn, ^ a fossil ammonite the paper-weight. 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 77 
 
 "When I draw those buckskin cur- 
 tains, and shut this room off, on cold 
 nights, it's snug enough before a good fire.'' 
 
 " Yes," said Ward, " I was here, once, 
 on a winter night, when the wind howled 
 without. To see Forrest sitting on that 
 buffalo head, dressed hke an Indian, the 
 collies, mastiffs ^ beagles sprawled about, 
 the black cat blinking at the devils in the 
 fire, while the flame-light danced around 
 the room and lit up the carvings and those 
 drawings on the buckskin tapestries, made 
 a savage picture I shall never forget." 
 
 There were two Indian pipes, feather- 
 fringed, long-stemmed, crossed on the wall 
 with an Indian pouch. 
 
 "Do you smoke?" asked Miss Earle 
 in amazement. 
 
 "Yes, and no. I learned to smoke 
 among the Indians to be able to accept the 
 
yS The Natural Man 
 
 pipe of peace. The Indian was superior 
 even in his vices. Before the whites came 
 from Eskimo-land to Aztec-land there 
 was not an Indian who knew how to brew 
 an intoxicating drink, or to use it. Tobacco 
 was the only solace, ^ that was diluted into 
 * Kin-nee-Kin-nick ' and used most tem- 
 perately. Tobacco-smoking is the least 
 harmful of all the drug-vices ^ the most 
 poetic and philosophic. When a friend 
 comes who smokes I offer him my pipe 
 of peace, but I never smoke now, myself. 
 Even tobacco is too disturbing. I love an 
 unclouded soul. 
 
 That pipe was given me by the New 
 York Indians when they adopted me. The 
 bowl is from the famous Pipestone Quarry 
 in Minnesota. The other bowl is of burn- 
 ed clay. I found it when digging in my 
 garden. Perhaps some other savage raised 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 79 
 
 corn there before me." 
 
 They examined the east room. It had 
 a number of book cases, a massive table 
 of hewn timbers pinned together ^ several 
 of the woven, bulrush armchairs. On the 
 table Miss Earle noticed the rough draft 
 of a poem, which she obtained permission 
 to read. 
 
 A TR UE MAN is a FOREST TREE, 
 O Liberty^ I love thee passing well^ 
 And spurn the sordid thoughts of those who 
 
 tell 
 Of values compassed by betraying thee — 
 Cheapo cheapo too cheap the price at which 
 
 they sell, 
 
 I love the rivers and the open air. 
 The clouds^ the wilderness^ and wild things 
 there; 
 
8o The Natural Man 
 
 And say a true man is a forest tree. 
 By Nature planted deep and rooted fair. 
 
 I love the windfloods and the shaken sea, 
 'The great blue sky-tenfs clean immensity, 
 The manly mountain and the pregnant plain; 
 With these the song-soul breathes in sympathy, 
 
 I love the primal, ancient, granite fact. 
 The mystic meaning moving in the a^; — 
 The old world-currents tiding in my brain 
 Make seem small loss the gew-gaws I have 
 lacked. 
 
 It was noticable in this room, as well 
 as the entrance hall, that the soft sand- 
 stone walls were freely chiseled into sig- 
 nificant shapes, some weird, some grotesque, 
 some dimly suggestive, as though the 
 rock had naturally ^ accidentally assumed 
 
The Natural Man 8i 
 
 familiar shape. ^ The east room wall sug- 
 gested a dark or cavernous forest full of 
 mystery — 
 
 Tree-trunks, rocks, guarded branches 
 half lost in misty formlessness here and 
 there a human foot, or leg, or hand or 
 half-everted face showing; or the coils of 
 a serpent with hidden head; or vague forms 
 of lurking feroe. 
 
 In the entrance hall the conceptions 
 were heroic and clearly wrought out. On 
 the west side Indians and dogs were in 
 furious combat with a bear, on the east was 
 an imaginary home scene of pre-historic 
 man. Both full of spirit ^ skillful shaping. 
 
 "O my! Look at these eyes! — What 
 is it, a wildcat?" and Edith caught For- 
 rest's arm and pointed into the dark loft. 
 
 Forrest laughed and gave a chuck, and 
 Edith screamed and jumped aside as a 
 
82 The Natural Man 
 
 great bird floated down, like a ghost to his 
 head, making the cavernous dwelling ring 
 as he suddenly erected himself and, glar- 
 ing at them with wild eyes, uttered a 
 demoniac hoo-hoo-hooer-hool 
 
 "That is my winged cat, Hoolahoo. 
 I raised him from a baby," said Forrest, 
 stroking the bird, who glared at them sus- 
 piciously for a few moments, his eyes 
 gradually closing to mere slits, and then, 
 lifting his wings, flew noiselessly back to 
 the loft. 
 
 "At night he comes in i^ out of yonder 
 hole in the peak, and by day other birds 
 come in i^ out there too. I have not learned 
 to consider a bird in my house unlucky." 
 
 " * Hoolahoo ! ' an Irish owl ! " giggled 
 Edith the irrepressible. 
 
 The only other noticeable features of 
 the dwelling were a carpenter bench be- 
 
The Natural Man 83 
 
 yond the " Basket and store," and the 
 various ornaments and utensils hung on all 
 the walls — antlers, skulls and heads of 
 wild animals; horns, pouches, lariats, fish 
 rods, fish spears, hunting knives, axes and 
 hatchets, bows & arrows, lances, clubs and 
 canes, guns and pistols, gourds. 
 
 Perhaps most curious of all, up in the 
 roof, near the hole, was an immense hor- 
 net's nest with the insects busily going in 
 and out. 
 
 " I think I remember," said Miss Earle, 
 "reading in ' Walden' of a dream Thoreau 
 had of 'a larger and more populous house' 
 than his, 'standing in a golden age * * * a 
 vast, rude, substantial, primitive hall; * * * 
 a cavernous house wherein you must reach 
 up a torch upon a pole to see the roof.'" 
 
 " When I read that I was ' struck all 
 of a heap ' for I had built this house first. 
 
84 The Natural Man 
 
 It seemed strange that my partly accident- 
 al house should so nearly have realized 
 his ideal.'* 
 
 Coming outside Forrest brought his 
 flute. 
 
 " Wait here a moment." 
 
 Springing up the sides of the irregular 
 exterior of his dwelling he seated himself 
 on a ledge ^ began playing a weird mel- 
 ody. And as they looked a great snake, 
 shining black, slid out from among the 
 rocks. 
 
 Six feet long, the constrictor seemed 
 in ecstasy. His body expanded and con- 
 tracted with long-drawn breaths, his neck 
 lifted and swayed rhythmically, his tongue 
 darted unceasingly in ^ out, his eyes were 
 bright yet mild. He drew near to Forrest 
 and swayed before him, then, suddenly, 
 while Edith cried out with terror, twined 
 
The Natural Man 85 
 
 around his leg and quickly up to his neck, 
 where he stroked his head about the man's 
 -face like an affectionate cat. 
 
 Forrest put down the flute, talked 
 gently to the creature, petted him, un- 
 wound & laid him gently down, and then 
 came to them. 
 
 " O horrid ! " said Edith, " why do you 
 make pets of such dreadful creatures! " 
 
 Forrest smiled. 
 
 " I have a pet toad, too." 
 
 " I am disgusted. Why do you not 
 love beautiful things, only P " 
 
 "Beauty is a matter of appreciation." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that the toad is 
 as beautiful as the humming-bird?" 
 
 "It is a matter of appreciation." 
 
 "Forrest argues" said Saxon, seeing 
 that his friend had fallen into an abstracted 
 silence, "that everything in nature is 
 
86 The Natural Man 
 
 beautiful, that everything in the universe 
 has its charm. It is for us to find the charm 
 and appreciate the beauty, and the volume 
 of the sum total of our pleasure depends 
 upon the thoroughness of our appreciation." 
 
 " Well, I declare, you gentlemen make 
 me out narrow, prejudiced and ignorant to 
 your satisfaction," pouted Edith. 
 
 " Everything has its charm," smiled 
 Forrest, looking at her. 
 
 " Even the screams and pouts of a 
 pretty woman," seconded Saxon. 
 
 "There's not much charm in being 
 laughed at." 
 
 " Laugh with the laughers and you 
 laugh as long as they." 
 
 "And have a double laugh — with 
 and at them." 
 
 Edith began to smile at her tormentors. 
 
 " But there are normal differences of 
 
The Natural Man 87 
 
 beauty and charm in the relation of phe- 
 nomena to ourselves; while abstractly they 
 may be equal, our history and physiology 
 justify all our likes and dislikes." 
 
 "Thank you, Forrest." 
 
 "Yet whoso cultivates the overlook 
 sees the most beauty and joy." 
 
 "If charms are equal, the city is as 
 good as the forest, the artificial life as the 
 natural — aha! I have you. Sir Savage !" 
 
 " Not yet. I repeat, charms are ab- 
 stractly equal but race history &' individual 
 constitution justify our preferences — the 
 city charms, artificiality has joys, luxury 
 delights, vice and crime and all evil have 
 attending pleasures — yet man was wilder- 
 ness-born and wilderness-reared. The few 
 generations of artificiality have not aborted 
 the instincts inherited through long ages 
 of nature. The happiness and health for 
 
88 
 
 The Natural Man 
 
 which the city man sighs and struggles are 
 easy as breathing to the natural man/' 
 
 " Do you distinguish between happi- 
 ness and pleasure?" asked Miss Earle. 
 
 "Certainly. Happiness is the pleasure 
 — the joy of healthy existence ^ healthy 
 action in soul and body." 
 
CHAP T E R V 
 
 HAT will you have for din- 
 ner?" he suddenly asked. 
 
 "O/' said Edith, "give us 
 just what you would have had 
 yourself. We want to live just as you do, 
 today." 
 
 "Yes," said Theodora, " today we are 
 your disciples." 
 
 " But I meant to pick my dinner from 
 
 the wild strawberry vines." 
 
 " Delightful ! — so will we." 
 
 "Well, we had better commence now. 
 
 I see by the sun that it is approaching 
 
 noon, and one takes more time satisfying 
 
90 
 
 The Natural Man 
 
 hunger, picking food bit by bit in that 
 wild way." 
 
 So he led them to places where, among 
 the rich grass, the ruddy fruit grew in 
 profusion. "They are ripe before the grass 
 this year," he said. 
 
 " Do you remember," he asked, "that 
 Thoreau relates that when he was so an- 
 archistic as to refuse to pay his poll tax, 
 and they imprisoned him, he was released 
 in time to pick his dinner of huckleberries 
 on Fair Haven Hill?" 
 
 "Yes, I remember; it is in ' Walden.' " 
 
 "Do you pay a poll tax, Mr. West- 
 wood? " 
 
 "O yes, I pay taxes, of course. I 
 believe in these things no more than 
 Emerson or Thoreau, but resistance to 
 them is folly, except on the mental plane. 
 Some day the world will understand that 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 91 
 
 to take any man's property without his 
 consent is robbery, ^ then taxes will cease.'* 
 
 " But what will support social institu- 
 tions ? " 
 
 " Free contributions will support what- 
 ever institutions the people desire, just as 
 churches are supported now in these 
 States." 
 
 He made them dainty cups of leaves, 
 sewn together with their own stems. 
 
 "Take these and put berries in them, 
 eating as you work, & when we each have 
 a cup full we will go to our table and sit 
 in the shade and eat them." 
 
 When their cups were full they did so, 
 and he brought them fresh cream and 
 maple sugar and carven spoons, and they 
 feasted divinely. And he gave each a chap- 
 let of vine leaves ^ an owl plume, and said 
 laughingly: "Now you are my disciples." 
 
92 The Natural Man 
 
 "This grove is like a temple," said 
 Saxon. 
 
 "Yes, I think all architecture was 
 suggested by nature and imitates it." 
 
 " Mr. Westwood, why dorit you go to 
 church? " 
 
 He put on a comical look. 
 
 " Do you really think, if I went to 
 church next Sunday, 'just as I am, without 
 one plea,' that I would be welcome?" 
 
 Edith laughed, as her fancy conjured 
 up the vision of this naked pagan sitting 
 in a stuffy tabernacle among the scented 
 ladies and starched deacons of the scandal- 
 ized congregation. 
 
 " I really don't think the church has 
 anything for me. Miss Lyle." 
 
 " ' The friendly ^ flowing savage, who 
 is he? Is he waiting for civilization, or is he 
 past it, and mastering it?'" quoted Saxon. 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 93 
 
 " Mr. Westwood," said Theodora, with 
 her grave thoughtful tones, "would you 
 mind telling us what you think of religious 
 things; your views are different from those 
 of most, I fancy? " 
 
 He leaned back against the shagbark 
 and looked up among the leaves, while the 
 black cat rubbed, purring, against him. 
 
 "Yes, so different that I hardly know 
 how to tell them. No one ever asked me 
 before." 
 
 "As a youth I rejected all creeds, re- 
 velations, gods. I was atheist, or, better, 
 agnostic, for I said I did not know. But 
 neither did I believe. But gradually a 
 strange feeling of kinship between myself 
 and nature grew in me. I gave myself up 
 more and more to these strange invisible 
 currents of life, as the sea obeys the moon 
 and the sap the seasons. The feeling which 
 
94 The Natural Man 
 
 I had always had that in the trees <y rocks 
 was life, a Hfe similar to my own except in 
 degree, intensified, until suddenly the 
 whole thing crystallized, as it were, and I 
 saw that the whole universe was One 
 Great Life.'* 
 
 "Pantheism," said Saxon. 
 
 "Perhaps you may call it that. But I 
 am not sure it is like other people's pan- 
 theism. To me the universe is a living 
 organism, living, breathing, intelligent 
 throughout, if you do not define these 
 terms too rigidly. I feel that in the whole 
 infinite universe there is but one life, one 
 force, one element, one substance, one ex- 
 istence^ one fact — One. It seems to me 
 that all these apparent forces, substances, 
 elements, are infinitely interchangeable ^ 
 elusive and at bottom the same." 
 
 " But what puzzles me in pantheism is 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 95 
 
 to know where / come in," said Saxon. 
 
 "Yes, I understand. I would have 
 been a pantheist years before had I not 
 felt that to hold the doctrine was to lose 
 my own identity. But suddenly I saw it 
 differently. If there is in all the universe 
 but One, then I am that One; not in the 
 sense of completeness, of course, but in 
 the sense of continuity ^ identity of spirit 
 and substance and nature. This is the 
 hardest part to explain to you; indeed I 
 do not know that I can make you see it 
 as I see it." He paused a moment ^ then 
 pointed to the brook. "You see that the 
 water divides there and flows on each side 
 of a great rock. Now, if we imagine the 
 brook endowed with consciousness, no 
 doubt the stream on the right of the rock 
 will feel itself separate from the stream on 
 the left, but to us they are plainly con- 
 
g6 The Natural Man 
 
 tinuous and the same. So I suppose every 
 life in the world flows from the same in- 
 finite source and finally returns to it and 
 while feeling itself separate, because limited 
 and partial, is really continuous and the 
 same." 
 
 "O I understand you!" cried Theo- 
 dora, " I see it all. What an infinite 
 dignity ^ largeness it seems to give one's 
 life ! It awes me." 
 
 "Yes," said Forrest, with a grateful 
 look at her, "and you feel that more and 
 more as you consider it. You realize that 
 not only are you continuous with the 
 divine cause, but with the whole universe 
 in its every part and motion. Every man 
 that you see is yourself under another form, 
 every animal also, and not only that, but 
 every rock & tree, the streams, the fields, 
 the skies. You are everywhere and every- 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 97 
 
 thing. The sense of Identity, individuality 
 and personality which you possess you 
 now see is really a dim and partial appre- 
 hension of your Divine Personality and 
 immortality. You have lived forever and 
 shall live forever, for you are the One 
 Only and Self-existent. You may die mil- 
 lions of times, as regards change of form, 
 and still you have eternal ^ Indestrudlible 
 life. You are able to give yourself up un- 
 restrainedly to the enjoyment of the passing 
 panorama of life, because it Is the pano- 
 rama of your own eternal evolution. You 
 are at peace with God, because you are 
 God, you are at peace with the universe 
 because you are the universe, you are at 
 peace with men because you are mankind. 
 You begin to understand the divine 
 serenity of Emerson, the child-like ease 
 and sufficiency of Thoreau, the infinite 
 
98 The Natural Man 
 
 comradeship of Whitman. These men all 
 felt more or less clearly their continuity 
 with the universe. As you grow into the 
 thought, everything enlarges. This life is 
 but a days journey, there are millions more 
 before you; death is but a sleep, a change 
 of form, and no matter how long you sleep, 
 or what you dream, you shall wake and 
 know yourself at last. You have all the 
 time there is to grow in, all the universe 
 to enjoy yourself in, and you shall see all 
 things and have all experience." 
 
 " It is very great," said Saxon, ^^ but I 
 do not understand, if we are continuous 
 with God and of the same substance, how 
 it is that we can be so weak and wicked, 
 and full of mistakes and trouble." 
 
 " It is a problem that seems to me fully 
 answered by my theory," said Forrest, 
 " God is complete, he is everything; being 
 
The Natural Man 99 
 
 complete, he is perfect, for only complete- 
 ness can be perfect. But we, so far as we 
 are members and parts of God are incom- 
 plete, imperfect, for the partial cannot be 
 perfect. And imperfection explains it all — 
 our strength is imperfect therefore we are 
 weak; our goodness is imperfect therefore 
 we are wicked; our wisdom is incomplete 
 therefore we are full of mistakes. And 
 where there are weakness, sin, mistakes, 
 there must surely be regret and trouble. 
 But we can not reproach the Perfect for 
 our imperfections, because to give us any 
 separate life at all he had to give us the life 
 we have with all its consequences; he could 
 not, mighty as he is, make the partial at 
 the same time whole, and the imperfect at 
 the same time perfect, and so all the rest 
 follows. And from this I deduce that the 
 futher we are from the divine, the center. 
 
lOO The Natural Man 
 
 the source, the more imperfect, the weaker^ 
 the more ugly, foolish, wrong we are and 
 that, on the other hand, every step of ap- 
 proach toward the divine makes us strong- 
 er, wiser, more sane, healthy, happy; better 
 balanced, completer. This explains the 
 instant satisfaction ^growing reward which 
 comes to every man who aspires to a 
 higher life, who covets wisdom, who pur- 
 sues beauty, who idealizes and worships 
 his ideals; it explains the inevitable delight 
 of charity, generosity, liberality, comrade- 
 ship, for all these things unite us ^ draw 
 toward the source." 
 
 He stopped and seemed lost in thought 
 and they looked at him in wonder, almost 
 in reverence. 
 
 " It explains and justifies all religions," 
 he went on, dreamily, "everything and 
 every thought has sometime ^ somewhere 
 
The Natural Man ioi 
 
 been worshipped. And rightly, for every- 
 thing and every thought is divine. The 
 divine is in everything, serpent, tree, or 
 stone, and everything is a symbol of divine 
 things, and every book is a Bible iff every 
 thought a revelation, and every man a 
 Messiah." 
 
 " Ugh! " said Edith, with comical hor- 
 ror, "Suppose my Methodist minister heard 
 of such things. Justifying idolatry! I ought 
 not to listen to such words." 
 
 "It is grand, sublime! " said Theodora 
 with a flash of her dark eyes. "The noblest 
 gospel that ever I heard, and the only one 
 that ever gave my sceptical, pessimistic 
 nature the least feeling of security ^ peace. 
 There is room in this. It is a religion for 
 grown-up folks." 
 
 Forrest smiled at her enthusiasm and 
 stroked the black cat sleeping between his 
 
I02 The Natural Man 
 
 knees. T[ " It makes one very contented and 
 happy. There is charm, beauty, divinity 
 in everything, however lonely or ugly. On 
 one side, at least, each thing lays hold on 
 everything ^ extends to infinity and there 
 is no real separation. We are like the sea 
 'in the hollow of his hand' and cannot fall 
 out. 
 
 "There are infinite possibilities in the 
 doctrine, I can see," said Saxon. "It is 
 certainly the largest and broadest of creeds 
 and appears to offer a key to innumerable 
 problems." 
 
 "Wait," said Forrest, and dumping the 
 astonished cat on the grass, who stretched 
 herself and yawned reproachfully, he dart- 
 ed into his castle. 
 
 " His religion reminds me " said Edith, 
 "of that cannibal sailor of the Nancy Bell, 
 in Gilberts' poem, that 'elderly naval man' 
 
The Natural Man 103 
 
 who sat on a stone and sang 'in a singular 
 minor key:' 
 
 '0 Fm the cook^ and the captain bold, 
 And the mate of the Nancy brig; 
 And the bos'un tight. 
 And the midshipmite. 
 And the crew of the captain s gig.' " 
 They all laughed, but Miss Earle was 
 inclined to look a little indignant at the 
 flippant comparison. 
 
 " Don't be mad, Theo, I'm not quite 
 so shallow as I seem, and I really think I 
 shall always feel a little better for what 
 Forrest said today." 
 
 Forrest came back with a paper in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Here is a poem I wrote on these 
 ideas." 
 
 " One moment," said Saxon, putting 
 up his hand, " how does this belief of yours 
 
I04 The Natural Man 
 
 bear on future life, transmigration, etc.? " 
 " I am not very clear, there. Perhaps 
 the spirit retains its cohesion for a time 
 after death and leads an unbodied spirit 
 life; but sooner or later, I suppose, it 
 breaks up and disperses or goes into some 
 other form. To a certain extent the doc- 
 trines of the spiritists ^ transmigrationists 
 may both be true. Matter continually 
 changes its form; so, I think, does spirit. 
 Matter I suppose is only visible spirit and 
 spirit only invisible matter, (^ each merely 
 a form or expression of the one, divine 
 force which, in the last analysis, is the only 
 thing. I suppose no knowledge to be lost. 
 Every form I think keeps a perfect record 
 of its changes. In our crude way we read 
 them in the teeth of a horse, the horns of 
 a cow, the rings of a tree, the strata of a 
 world. If we knew enough we should find 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 105 
 
 the record exact and unbroken — nothing 
 omitted. When at last after every minor 
 change, we enlarge into conscious Divine 
 Identity we shall know, remember and 
 foreknow everything - nothing lost, noth- 
 ing imperfect, nothing to regret, nothing 
 to antagonize — only infinite serenity, 
 strength, health, knowledge and peace." 
 
 " That makes Nirvana look very dif- 
 ferent from annihilation." 
 
 "Here is my poem:" 
 
 ID ENTITT, 
 
 O little cloudy aloft in blue. 
 
 Of the same cloth cut, am /, as you? 
 
 And do /, like you, some day fly 
 
 Along the azure-tinted sky? 
 
 Am I the blue, the mist, the rain. 
 
 The clod that drinks it on the -plain; 
 
 The little flower with lifted lips. 
 
io6 The Natural Man 
 
 The bee that out its nectar sips? 
 
 With the falling star am I undone? 
 Do I burn in glory in the sun? 
 Is there but One? Are all things mine? 
 Am I a worm? Am I divine? 
 Have I ever lived; do I ever die 
 And yet exist eternally? 
 Again, again, and yet again 
 Transmutation, loss yet gain. 
 
 Sometimes seeing, sometimes sleep, 
 
 T'he backward wave, the forward sweep, 
 
 T'he ebb, the sin, the diastole, 
 
 'The bloom, the genius, the thunder-roll; 
 
 Contradiction agreeing sure. 
 
 The trap self -caught with its own lure. 
 
 The circle returning whence it came. 
 
 Ever unbroken the spheric frame, 
 
 * * * 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 107 
 
 O little bird, in the upward tree. 
 Surely I know your minstrelsy! 
 
 lightning-pen on the midnight sky, 
 
 1 read at last your word on high. 
 
 " Tell me the secret of happiness? " 
 " Feel your identity and agreement 
 
 with the universe and appreciate the joy 
 
 of the moment.'' 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 iE led them now toward the 
 lake, walking himself in the 
 brook, which splashed about 
 his bare legs, while they clam- 
 bered along the banks. Part way they 
 came to a clump of stately trees, from a 
 branch of one depending a loop of wild- 
 grape vine a distance of 50 or 60 feet. 
 
 "This is one of my play grounds," 
 said Forrest, "and here is my swing." 
 
 Catching the loop of vine he ran up 
 the slope with it, and then, springing up 
 with his foot in the loop, he shot out a 
 hundred feet or more ^ back again, while 
 
no The Natural Man 
 
 the great limb swayed and sprang above. 
 A beautiful scene, full of wild, child-like 
 abandon. 
 
 "What a magnificent animal!" whis- 
 pered Saxon. 
 
 " More than that," murmured Miss 
 Earle, "a wise, free soul." 
 
 " He certainly holds something that 
 we lack." 
 
 When they came to the lake he could 
 persuade none of them to enter his little 
 birch canoe: they feared an upset, so he led 
 them to where a great, sprawling willow 
 thrust a number of big limbs out horizon- 
 tally over the water. 
 
 "This tree was blown down once, over 
 the lake, and then some of the branches 
 became upward trunks." 
 
 They seated themselves on this roman- 
 tic natural pier, sitting on trunks, leaning 
 
The Natural Man hi 
 
 against limbs; Forrest sitting on one close 
 to the water, letting his feet plash. 
 
 The water was deep, yet clear, ^ they 
 could see sunfish, bass, pickerel, and 
 sometimes a turtle below. As Edith leaned 
 over to look at them she suddenly cried out: 
 
 "O there goes my ring!" 
 
 Forrest marked the spot from which 
 the ripples dilated, and then, without a word, 
 tossing his wampum belt ^ pouch ashore, 
 he dropped forward from his perch like a 
 great turtle and slid down through the 
 clear water in pursuit of the jewel. 
 
 He looked like an immense frog, down 
 there, paddling about. Almost immediately 
 he rose with the circlet in his grasp, present- 
 ing it to Edith who thanked him profusely, 
 and then rested himself unconcernedly on 
 a sunny branch with his feet in the water 
 again. Wearing only what swimmers call a 
 
112 The Natural Man 
 
 " trunk/' anyway, he was quite amphibious. 
 
 " I will show you some fun," he said, 
 and putting his hand to his mouth he 
 "yodeled" like a Switzer. 
 
 Instantly loud barks rang thro* the 
 Vale, and in a moment the mastiffs, the 
 beagles, the collies, came rushing toward 
 them. 
 
 "Here come the henchmen!" said 
 Sax. 
 
 " Into the water, children ! " cried For- 
 rest, clapping his hands. 
 
 No second invitation, that warm day, 
 was needed. With joyous clamour the dogs 
 dashed pell-mell into the cool fluid; 
 splashing it high, swimming, chasing each 
 other, lapping with greedy tongues; while 
 the spectators applauded. 
 
 Forrest could not resist the contagion, 
 but leapt from his branch and joined with 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 113 
 
 them, sometimes in the canoe, sometimes 
 swimming, sometimes playing "tag" on 
 the bank. 
 
 They were wild with delight to have 
 him with them, and tore around, barking 
 frantically, their eyes shining with joy. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped and waved his 
 hand. 
 
 "Watch, Ward, home again!" 
 
 Very promptly, but with wistful back- 
 ward glances they departed. 
 
 "To your work again, boys!" he said 
 to the collies, ^ they, too, with suddenly 
 sobered countenances, returned to their 
 duties. 
 
 " How did you get your bark canoe ? " 
 said Miss Earle. 
 
 " I bought it of an Indian in the 
 Adirondacs, and a great time I had getting 
 it here. I paddled it whenever I could, 
 
114 The Natural Man 
 
 lifted it on my head over "carrys," and 
 the rest of the way Blackbird dragged it 
 on a " travois." She was disgusted with the 
 job, and had a great notion to kick it into 
 smithereens, but thought better of it on 
 my account. 
 
 "Woman-like," said Saxon. 
 
 "Ah, yes. Blackbird is a very lady.*' 
 
 He was lying now in the sun, on a flat 
 rock, near the water, drying himself, and 
 looked very Greek-like with the damp 
 locks slightly curling on his brow and his 
 naked limbs glistening in the bright light; 
 all reflected in the water. 
 
 "Tell us about your trips to the 
 Adirondacs." 
 
 " O do you care to know ! Well, quite 
 often in the summer, when the hay mak- 
 ing is over, ( I love that ^ never miss it) 
 I leave my place to the care of the people 
 
The Natural Man 115 
 
 of the Red Farm, take my rifle, my bow 
 and arrows, my flute, my mastifi-s and 
 beagles, a buffalo robe i^ two blankets, and 
 hie away to the mountains. The journey 
 to and fro is pleasant, for the people on 
 the way all know me and call me the 
 "White Indian." I am a circus to the 
 farmers, and they are glad to have me stop 
 a night. They feed Blackbird royally, and 
 the dogs, to see them perform, and my 
 bow-shooting, lasso-throwing, and flute 
 playing, always make me a free-comrade. 
 In the mountains I camp till cold weather, 
 and then come home laden with pelts 
 and happy memories of the great woods. 
 I have friends all through there — 
 guides, Indians, half-breeds, campers; but 
 I am alone, preferably. A man in the 
 presence of Nature should be on his best 
 behavior, but these people feel nothing, see 
 
ii6 The Natural Man 
 
 nothing and chatter nonsense, mostly." 
 " Read us another poem/' coaxed 
 
 Edith, "something about the woods." 
 He went gravely to his pouch, and 
 
 pulling out a MS. read them this: 
 
 SWAMF HAPPINESS, 
 I 
 
 Were I a betrachian cool. 
 
 Sitting beside some pool. 
 
 In an alder-stump cave in the bank; 
 
 With a fern before 
 
 And moss on the floor ^ 
 
 And my walls dew-droppy and dank; ^ 
 
 A bulrush bed^ 
 
 A toad stool^ 
 
 Fishes to see 
 
 For company; 
 
 And a turtle agog 
 
 On a log 
 
The Natural Man 117 
 
 JVitb a Chinaman s neck to his head; 
 
 A newt on the stair ^ 
 
 In a lily-pad chair; 
 
 And a drift-wood boaty 
 
 On which I could floaty 
 
 With a devil-fly -perched at the helm\ 
 
 Water to whehn\ 
 
 And a very deep voice in my throat — 
 
 Tell me, 
 
 Would not that be happiness^ 
 
 II 
 Were I a sinuous snake 
 Under a bush in a brake; 
 With a pitch-forky tongue. 
 Bifurcate, 
 And elate; 
 
 With a toad in my maw 
 Still wriggling and raw; 
 A red flower by my side; 
 A spider net overswung. 
 
ii8 The Natural Man 
 
 Jeweled with dew; 
 
 Shady water before 
 
 Wherein I could glide; 
 
 Arrow-leaves by the shore; 
 
 Hot sun overhead; 
 
 A little green heron — Pee-quawk! 
 
 Black birds to whistle and talk^ 
 
 And one with a shoulder of red 
 
 Perched in a white-birch tree^ 
 
 Listening a Pewee-bird sing 
 
 Of a yellow-jack bee and his sting: — 
 
 Sting me—e—el Sting me—e—el — 
 
 Would not that be happiness? 
 
 in 
 
 Were I a sun perch in the pond. 
 Armored in rainbow and red; 
 Eyes rolling hither and yon; 
 Droop-cornered mouth to my head; 
 A telescope yawn; 
 Daggers all over my back. 
 
The Natural Man 119 
 
 Bristling when I would attack 
 Cannibals after my spawn\ 
 Driving them out and beyond 
 My clean-swept^ gravelly nest 
 In the sand; 
 
 [Shoal water next to the land. 
 Clear amber water and warm.) 
 Gold-Jin fanning at rest. 
 Under the Nymphea shade; 
 Or charging with passionate spite. 
 Jealous of raid; 
 Dreaming of babies a-swarm 
 Before me in fluent crowd. 
 Darting, fine-shredded cloud — 
 If I were that Amazon Knight 
 Would not that be happiness? 
 
 IV 
 Were I a musquash in the swamp. 
 Loving a swim and a romp 
 Beneath the moon; 
 
I20 The Natural Man 
 
 When the waters are bright and stilly 
 
 And the hare^ dead tree on the hill 
 
 Gleams white\ 
 
 And the bark of the coon. 
 
 Or the laugh of the loon 
 
 Wakes the night; 
 
 The owl neighs " Ah-y-y-hey-hey-hoo! ** 
 
 And the night hawk booms " Bhoo-oo! " 
 
 And the little mouse cowers in fright y 
 
 With a wigwam of mud , 
 
 Rising out of the flood; 
 
 Bedded warm and soft 
 
 In the dome-shaped loft; 
 
 With bank-caves, beside. 
 
 To dive to and hide; 
 
 Under cover so nice 
 
 When winter brings ice — 
 
 What think you. 
 
 Would not that be happiness? 
 
The Natural Man 121 
 
 V 
 
 Or were I the man by that swamp. 
 
 On the hill above, in the camp. 
 
 Noting the play go on: — 
 
 The iris-fish and her spawn; 
 
 The frog in his swimming school; 
 
 The snake asleep in the sun; 
 
 'The black-bird's gurgle of fun; 
 
 'The turtle's drop from the stump, 
 
 Sss— plump! 
 
 In the pool; 
 
 'The muskraf s dive; 
 
 The paper hive 
 
 Of the bees; 
 
 And at night 
 
 The camp fire' s light 
 
 On the trees; 
 
 The sounds that wake 
 
 The forest still. 
 
 Whistle and cluck of whippoorwill. 
 
121 The Natural Man 
 
 ^be screech owV s quavering shake ^ 
 Faint heard plash from the lake — 
 Ahl — that indeed would he happiness! 
 
 "Come and see the Swallow's Nest 
 before the afternoon is too far spent." 
 
 They went back thro' the trees and up 
 by Cave Gables again. Back of it a goat path 
 went up the precipitous hill-side. Forrest 
 aided Miss Earle, and it gave her artistic 
 nature a strange thrill to be so close to this 
 nude, supple savage ^ feel his firm grasp 
 on her arm. 
 
 She felt a desire she did not indulge to 
 put out her hand on his back and feel the 
 sinewy play of his shoulders. 
 
 Swallow's Nest was just at the hilltop. 
 One jutting rock formed the floor, and 
 another, some eight feet over, a sort of 
 pent-house roof. On three sides open to the 
 
The Natural Man 123 
 
 view; at the back, rock. Rocks piled up 
 formed a rude battlement about the edge, 
 and a bitter-sweet £ff a wild clematis fringed 
 along the eaves. Under the roof a number 
 of eave-swallows had nests, flying in and 
 out twittering. There were a little table, a 
 bench, ^ a hammock from which whoever 
 swung could see the whole view. 
 
 The outlook was superb, over hills, 
 dales and plain. 
 
 "O what a lovely balcony!" cried 
 Edith, " and what a view ! I could stay 
 here forever." 
 
 "Is it here you write your poems?" 
 asked Miss Earle. 
 
 He looked at her with a little of his 
 former shyness, and yet seemed pleased. 
 
 "Yes, I write a good many here in 
 summer time. I read and study here, too. 
 1 like to be here in a thunder storm and 
 
124 The Natural Man 
 
 watch it pass over the country, and the big 
 drops fringe down along the rock-eaves." 
 
 "These little swallows do not fear you?" 
 
 "O no. We are old comrades. They 
 are shy now, for you are here, but often 
 perch on me, or the table, when I am alone, 
 and share a lunch with me." 
 
 Edith had climbed into the hammock, 
 and he gently swung it as he stood, while 
 the others sat by the table. They were all 
 happy and at ease. 
 
 Miss Earle leaned forward, with her 
 elbows on the table, ^ fixed her dark eyes 
 on Forrest. 
 
 " Would you advise all people to drop 
 their present habits and live as you do, 
 Mr. Westwood?" 
 
 "O no; the garment should fit the form. 
 What I would advise is that every man 
 should live his own life, questioning him- 
 
The Natural Man 125 
 
 self closely, however, whether greater sim- 
 plicity would not bring more happiness. 
 Be yourself, be free, is my advice, and I 
 believe simplicity promises more than 
 luxury." 
 
 "Then you do not condemn luxury?" 
 " Not at all, if it is cheap enough." 
 " Could you reform society on your 
 ideal, what would it be like?" 
 
 He showed his teeth in a smile and 
 then looked thoughtfully out over the 
 landscape. 
 
 "A Federation of the Free." 
 "O Mr. Westwood," burst out Edith, 
 "don't talk like that. Tell us in detail just 
 what it would be like." 
 
 He laughed now, and patted her head 
 as one might an impulsive child. 
 
 " I have no very clear idea. I have 
 been living my own life, not planning for 
 
126 The Natural Man 
 
 others. Still I have dreamed sometimes 
 that the world was changed, that laws, 
 governments, institutions were about 
 worked out, and all nations one. In my 
 dream the people seemed to be gathered 
 together over the world in hamlets and 
 village-groups, drawn more by similarity 
 of taste and feeling than by necessity. Not 
 exactly or totally communistic, but co-oper- 
 ating in so many ways as in some things to 
 approach that. The land possessed only by 
 those who used it and while using it. 
 
 "In my dream everybody took a share 
 in the necessary work, ^ thus a few hours 
 apiece was enough each day, and all were 
 employed and all compensated. The rest 
 of the time, everybody took pleasure, 
 read, studied, did artistic work, what 
 they pleased. And these artistic products, 
 being fruits of love, were not sold but 
 
The Natural Man 127 
 
 given to friends, or freely to the public. 
 The artist working in his moments of 
 leisure to express his sense of beauty, 
 asking no reward but his own satisfaction 
 and the praise of sympathetic observers. 
 And I seemed to see all habits, customs, 
 behavior, much freer and simpler than 
 now. No social law except that of non- 
 interference; no fashions, no restraints, no 
 inquisitions in morals or religion, individ- 
 ual tastes followed everywhere, and every 
 human flower after its own kind." 
 
 Edith clapped her hands, bvit Miss 
 Earle kept her dark eyes gravely on his 
 face. She was deeply interested, and seemed 
 like a person absorbed in the approaching 
 discovery of some long sought solution. 
 
 " I thank you, Mr. Westwood. I be- 
 lieve there is more in that dream of yours 
 than you are aware of/' 
 
128 The Natural Man 
 
 He gave her a swift, strong glance and 
 each seemed to look into the other's heart. 
 
 They went down, after a while, and 
 had a little supper on the terrace; and then 
 they talked of books and nature and sang 
 songs &' listened to his flute till dark came 
 and the moon rose. 
 
 He brought their horses, then, and 
 walked with them to the confines of his 
 little domain. The black cat ran with him 
 and the great owl swooped down from 
 somewhere and perched on his head. And 
 as the bird swayed on its unsteady perch 
 turning its pivoted head to stare at them 
 at whiles, and flapping its great wings, they 
 thought of Odin. 
 
 And the moonlight drifted whitely 
 down through the trees on all. 
 
 After they had left him, & could only 
 hear his flute ringing sweetly through the 
 
The Natural Man 129 
 
 silent woods, Miss Earle, riding between 
 her two companions, said: 
 
 " Do you know, that man has taught 
 me the greatest truth of my life? I have 
 been profoundly dissatisfied with my own 
 life and that of the world, as you know. 
 Now I am coming up here on this moun- 
 tain side, shall purchase land next this 
 philosopher, and, gradually gathering 
 around me like-minded spirits, we will 
 form a nucleus of that freer society of 
 which he has dreamed. What do you say, 
 dear friends, will you help me.?" 
 
 "We will." 
 
 And in the distance, sweet ^ far, rang 
 the flute. 
 
CHAP T E R FT I 
 
 T was morning again in Vale 
 Sunrise, the dew on the flowers 
 and leaves, the level light 
 streaming through the trees. 
 A beautiful tall girl walked in the path 
 near Cave Gables. Her gown was of the 
 simplest, and short enough to show her 
 beautifully turned bare feet and ankles. 
 From her uncovered head her fair hair fell in 
 two thick braids far below her waist. Her 
 great gray eyes were pensive and dreamy. 
 She sat down on a log and seemed lost 
 in thought. Suddenly there was a glad bark, 
 a beagle fawned upon her, and she looked 
 
132 The Natural Man 
 
 up to see Forrest close at hand, with the 
 milk crock balanced on his head. 
 
 " O Forrest ! " she said, a glad light 
 breaking thro' her clear, brown complexion 
 and making her somewhat irregular fea- 
 tures beautiful. 
 
 He set down the crock ^ putting his 
 arms around her, kissed her tenderly. 
 
 "What brings you here, my sweet 
 Light of the Morning? " 
 
 She smiled happily at his loving words 
 and patted his brawny arm, in a sort of 
 proud timidity, with her shapely hand. 
 
 " They were so busy at the Red Farm, 
 this morning, they could spare nobody to 
 come for the milk. I said I would come, 
 but mother grumbled and said I saw too 
 much of you now. Father winked at me, 
 behind her back, ^ said he wished I would 
 go, as it would be a great favor to him." 
 
The Natural Man 
 
 ^33 
 
 "Your mother does not like me, alto- 
 gether? " 
 
 "No. It was all right till I took to 
 wearing simple frocks, going barefoot, 
 wearing my hair down in braids, and read- 
 ing Emerson instead of the fashion paper. 
 Then it was 'O Mabel, why don't you be 
 more ladylike ! ' from morning till night. 
 But after all I have my will, ^ father says 
 he likes me better this way." 
 
 Forrest laughed. " Lucky for you that 
 you are a spoiled child ! " 
 
 He blew his long whistle, there was a 
 neigh, and soon came Blackbird, galloping. 
 She ran sniffing to Mabel, who gave her a 
 ginger cake from her pocket. Forrest pick- 
 ed the girl up in his strong arms and 
 lifted her like a bundle to the mare's back. 
 
 " O but I came to carry the milk," she 
 protested. 
 
134 
 
 The Natural Man 
 
 "You do look like a picture with the 
 crock on your head," he replied, "but this 
 morning you shall ride and I will carry," 
 and he lifted the crock again and walked 
 beside her. 
 
 " O Forrest you are so good ^ hand- 
 some, and I am so happy!" 
 
 And a thrush near them sang till the 
 woods trembled with the music, and the 
 waters of the brook tinkled over the stones. 
 
CHAP T E R Fill 
 
 O M E years are dead, and it 
 is Vale Sunrise again. The 
 northern end of the Vale, 
 where Cave Gables is, remains 
 unchanged, but south of the lake, and be- 
 yond, is a strange sylvan village. In this 
 hamlet live our old friends, Theodora 
 Earle, Edith Lyle, "Mabel of the Morning 
 Light," as Forrest calls her, Saxon Ward, 
 and many we have never known. Each has 
 his or her own little home, for a separate 
 habitation for each individual is one of the 
 tenets of this ideal community. They call 
 themselves Simplicists, and the home of 
 
136 The Natural Man 
 
 each is supposed to represent that person's 
 character and be sacred to his whims and 
 ideals. Mabel's father has joined the com- 
 munity, & his farm is now divided among 
 as many of the community as wish farm 
 work. The artistic blacksmith, who made 
 the fire-devils for Forrest's ingle, has his 
 smithy on the edge of the village. Saxon 
 keeps his printing office in Rippleford, 
 but lives in Vale Sunrise, and edits a paper 
 for the community. As much as possible 
 the people employ each other, and so have 
 a self-supporting community. Some of the 
 members are artists, one is a sculptor, 
 several are journalists or authors. A noted 
 singer and two noted musicians call this 
 "home." These artistic and literary folk 
 sell their products and talents to the out- 
 side world, but among themselves these 
 things are favors & not a matter of dollars. 
 
The Natural Man 137 
 
 The community has a carpenter, a mason, 
 a tailor, a dress-maker, a baker, a cook 
 who cooks for all, a laundry that washes 
 for all, some housekeepers who go around 
 and do the housework for all. There 
 is a public library, reading rooms, a 
 museum, an art gallery, a social parlor, a 
 hall for meetings, lectures, dramas, etc. 
 All dress as they like, live as they like, do 
 as they like. Everything is free but the 
 repression of freedom. There are no codes, 
 no laws, no rigid customs, no officers. In 
 a mental sense Forrest may be regarded 
 as their leader, and Miss Earle in a busi- 
 ness sense, but nobody is bound to stay, 
 acquiesce or obey, but by his own sense of 
 benefit. They co-operate in buying and 
 selling, (ff in caring for the sick and help- 
 less, and in insuring each other's property. 
 Very happy these people seem to be, 
 
138 The Natural Man 
 
 secure in each others comradeship and 
 sympathy, free to think, speak, act as they 
 will ; working short hours, and spending 
 the rest of their time in pursuit of beauty, 
 wisdom and innocent joy. Wealth is des- 
 pised, and those contented with the least 
 regarded with envy. Thoreau*s Walden is 
 a text book, Chloe and Daphnis models, 
 life an acted pastoral. 
 
 In their homes & dress the individual 
 peculiarities come out with most pictur- 
 esque emphasis. Mabel lives in a little 
 English cottage of rough stone, with lat- 
 ticed windows & thatched roof, and dresses 
 like a shepherdess. Miss Earle affects Greek 
 draperies, & resides in a grotto-like studio 
 with a glass roof from which all the light 
 comes. There is an immense aquarium in 
 the centre of the room, and an immense 
 Wardian case in the wall; the other walls 
 
The Natural Man 139 
 
 are frescoed in sylvan scenes or hung with 
 pictures; moss -colored carpets cover the 
 floor; statues stand around. Edith Lyle 
 lives in a tiny Swiss chalet and dresses in 
 bloomers. Saxon has an American log 
 cabin. The blacksmith lives in a house of 
 iron, full of artistic iron work of his own 
 design and making, and dresses like a fif- 
 teenth century artisan. A naturalist finds 
 simplicity in dwelling in a tent all the year 
 around, and dressing in green in summer, 
 white in winter. An author declares the 
 Japanese the ideal Simplicists, and builds 
 his home on their Hnes. Another author 
 declares simplicity is to be found in avoid- 
 ing all unnecessary work ^ in the utmost 
 frugality. He lives in a one-roomed box 
 house of boards, painted all plain red in- 
 side and out, one window, no chimney, a 
 kerosene stove, no carpet, a bed of blank- 
 
140 The Natural Man 
 
 ets on the floor, hung up by day. He lives 
 on uncooked fruits and nuts only. His 
 furniture consists of a few pine boxes of 
 different sizes, holding his effects. He sits 
 on one, eats from the top of another. 
 Three baskets, a pitcher and glass, a nut- 
 cracker, nut-pick and knife furnish his 
 table. Beyond that only a desk, book 
 shelves and books. He dresses in canvas 
 and lives mostly in the out-of-doors. An- 
 other lives in a tower, on a hill, with a 
 glass room at top. 
 
 It is an odd world, but a happy one. 
 
 Is it a freak, or a sign of the future ? 
 
OTHER WORKS BY 
 
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 Poems of the Free Spirit ^i.oo 
 
 The Red Heart in a White World 
 
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 Songs of the Unblind Cupid 
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 The Free Comrade 
 
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A