THE NEW ORDER OF LIVING
We’re never old until we think we are--this I say, not as a _sop_ to
those beyond the half-way station, but as a conclusion after some years
of observation and association with men.
I know some _young men of sixty_ who are putting over a sample of golf
that annexes my goat. One forgets their age when he finds them up and
coming on every proposition of legitimate sport and pleasure. They’ve
_learned how to live_ and _are_ living.
There is a big change in the habits of men. The day in which we live is
replete with simple enjoyments and facilities whereby to make the most
of them. _Achievement_ keeps them young, and achievement is a matter of
management rather than working hours. _Organization_ cuts the hours off
of the business day which leaves ample time for the recreation needed
to insure a good appetite, a healthy body, and the right kind of sleep.
If there is any secret in this simple process then consider that the
cat is “out of the bag.” _It’s yours._
[Illustration: “And her name was Maud”]
If we see a lean, hungry, decrepit mule wearily dragging his load along
we know at a glance that he is underfed, overworked, and _doesn’t
receive proper care_. He works too many hours a day, stands abuse
from his driver, becomes morose, just the same as a human being, and
finally, indifferent to what happens. Thus reduced to the depth of
despair, he actually awaits the crack of the whip across his loins
before answering the call to move along.
But times are changing for both men and mules. Neither will stand the
abuse and neglect of years gone by. Men are no longer the slaves of the
_big boss_. They have certain hours for work, after which their time is
their own.
Fortunately the era of treating one’s self decently is on. The barroom
has ceased to be the national indoor sport. Every self-respecting
town or city has joined in the _community of interests_ theory that
out-of-door life is good for its citizens. The result is _play-grounds_
for children, _public parks_ for all of the family, and _golf courses_
nearby for the men. It beats the old front porch rocking chair
proposition forty ways.
It isn’t more than twenty-five years since the real out-of-door era
began to dawn. I remember distinctly as a boy of ten how hard it was
to raise a companion after the evening meal. My parents held liberal
views on the subject. They trusted me in the matter of keeping out of
mischief and about the only warning I received was, “Don’t go far, and
_don’t stay out too late_.” With such elastic instructions I had very
little trouble in keeping the record straight, for my parents never
held me to strict account.
In my meanderings, however, I found the boys of my acquaintance pretty
well hemmed in during the evening hours. The scene is easily recalled.
The front stoop is plastered with rugs; the mother, father, sisters,
aunts, and grandmother are seated about on the steps, hammock or porch
chairs. Bob, Bill, Dick or Jim, as the case might be, was first to
be noticed leaning against the front gate, or looking dreamily over
the side fence. But as soon as the porch arguments began to warm up he
could be seen edging along slowly, inch by inch, toward the rear--just
nonchalantly, two pickets at a time, without any special semblance of
hurrying. If his mother _had the floor_ in the argument he got away
speedily and he generally waited for that.
But success was not always the case. Many times have I stood
impatiently out of view giving the _hurry-up_ signal, when suddenly
there came a loud call from the front that caused Robert to fall back
into his own yard and walk quickly around to the whenceness of the
clamor.
“What do you want, Ma?” he would enquire--as if he didn’t thoroughly
well know.
“I want you to stay around here where I can keep an eye on you. _Then
I’ll know where you are._”
Sometimes this kind of a backset would require nearly a half hour of
skilful jockeying to repair. After that only the boldest of plans stood
a chance to succeed, such as walking into the house from the front as
if in deep disgust, or after a drink of water in the rear of the house.
Then out through the kitchen door and over the back fence in a jiffy.
[Illustration: A pointed argument]
A nudge from _sister_ often nullified this subterfuge when the mother
seemed about to fall for the project, and that meant the loss of
another fifteen minutes during which Bobby would actually go and take a
swallow of water and come back to the porch, there to stretch and yawn
until told that he’d better go in and go to bed. _Victory at last_
for Bob, showing that there was more than one way to win a battle even
in those days. The slamming of an upstairs bed-room door, meant for his
mother’s ears, a slide down the “rain pipe”--and over the fence for
Bobby.
But what a wonderful change has come into the parental mind since then.
Now all Bob does is to announce where he is going--to the “gym,” over
to Bill’s, motor-boating, canoeing, bicycling, a hike in the park, or a
look in on the movies. Home and to bed by ten o’clock.
And what is the result? Boys of twelve now days become officers
in Boy Scout companies. They go in for everything likely to make
them _athletic, manly and alert_. At sixteen they have more general
knowledge than boys of twenty had twenty-five years ago. And their
minds are cleaner, likewise their bodies. Schooling comes easier to
them, although the courses are far more advanced. It takes knowledge to
get started off right now days.
This is an age of _pep_, and the competition of today means _pep
vs. pep_. With equal mental preparedness the man with the brawn
will stand the gaff that would kill his soft competitor. _Lest we
forget_--recreation, a good appetite, a healthy body, and the proper
amount of sleep--are positive requirements in _making life worth
while_.
[Illustration]