Finally compulsory military education or at least
the compulsory physical part of it, throughout the
country will set up the youth of the coming race in
a way hitherto unthought of. It is safe to say
that the next decade will see our youth, and men up
to the age of forty, in far better physical condition
than is the case to-day.
THE PRICE OF SUCCESS
The men of this country, with their forcefulness and
their ambition, their stern desire to succeed quickly
and to work furiously if necessary to obtain that
success, are apt to forget that Nature meant man to
earn his bread by the sweat of his brow; and that
just so far as he departs from this primal method
of supporting himself and his family he must pay toll.
Almost before he realizes it the American youth is
a staid man of business. Only yesterday he was
a boy at play, and to-day he finds himself known by
his first name or nickname only to a few old classmates
whom he sees at his college reunions. He is Judge
This or Honorable That. He has had no time to
realize that somewhere he has lost fifteen or twenty
years in this wild rush for fortune and fame.
Now in some hour of enforced reflection during a temporary
illness he begins to count the cost, to think how
little he has in common with that growing boy of his.
But still he does no more than wish that he might have
more time for play and could see his way to longer
and less interrupted vacations. Perhaps on his
next period of relaxation he plunges into an orgy
of physical exercise—plays to the point
of exhaustion—enjoys it, too, and sleeps
like a log. Oh, this is the life once more!
When he returns to town he determines to take more
time for exercise; he will keep up his tennis or golf.
But once back at work, he must make up for lost time.
He returns with an improved appetite and he indulges
it. Soon his vacation benefits have worn off,
together with his vacation tan. The muscles slacken
again, the waist-line increases. He feels a little
remorse over the way he has broken his good resolutions,
but of course he cannot neglect his business.
Then, after a hard week, followed by some carelessness
or exposure, he thinks that he has the grip or a cold.
He is lucky if he stays at home and calls in his physician.
He does not pick up. Now, for the first time,
he hears from the doctor words that he has caught
occasionally about men far older than himself—“blood
pressure.” But he he is under fifty!
The doctor says he must go slower. Now begins
a dreary round indeed! He has never learned to
go slow! He is an old man at fifty. If lucky,
he has made money. But what is the price?
He has found precious little fun in those fifteen or
twenty years since he was a boy. Of course he
has had his high living, his motor, his late hours.
His cigars have been good, but he has never enjoyed
them so much as he did the old pipe at camp. His
dinners and late suppers can’t compare with
the fish and bacon of the woods.
