lf. I could hear among the deeper
tones of men the shrill voices of boys. "There he is," one cried, "going
through them bushes! Look at him humping himself!" "What is it, what's
the sport?" another called. "Some crazy guy loose in the park in his
underclothes and the cops after him."

Then they closed in on me. I recognized the blue suits of the police
force and their short clubs. In a few minutes I was dragged out of
the shrubbery and stood in the open park in my pyjamas, wide awake,
shivering in the chilly air of early morning.

Fortunately for me, it was decided at the police-court that
sleep-walking is not an offence against the law. I was dismissed with a
caution.

My vacation is still before me, and I still propose to spend it naked.
But I shall do so at Atlantic City.

VII. The Cave-Man as He is

I think it likely that few people besides myself have ever actually seen
and spoken with a "cave-man."

Yet everybody nowadays knows all about the cave-man. The fifteen-cent
magazines and the new fiction have made him a familiar figure. A few
years ago, it is true, nobody had ever heard of him. But lately,
for some reason or other, there has been a run on the cave-man. No
up-to-date story is complete without one or two references to him. The
hero, when the heroine slights him, is said to "feel for a moment the
wild, primordial desire of the cave-man, the longing to seize her, to
drag her with him, to carry her away, to make her his." When he takes
her in his arms it is recorded that "all the elemental passion of the
cave-man surges through him." When he fights, on her behalf against a
dray-man or a gun-man or an ice-man or any other compound that makes up
a modern villain, he is said to "feel all the fierce fighting joy of the
cave-man." If they kick him in the ribs, he likes it. If they beat
him over the head, he never feels it; because he is, for the moment,
a cave-man. And the cave-man is, and is known to be, quite above
sensation.

The heroine, too, shares the same point of view. "Take me," she murmurs
as she falls into the hero's embrace, "be my cave-man." As she says it
there is, so the writer assures us, something of the fierce light of the
cave-woman in her eyes, the primordial woman to be wooed and won only by
force.

So, like everybody else, I had, till I saw him, a great idea of the
cave-man. I had a clear mental picture of him--huge, brawny, muscular,
a wolfskin thrown about him and a great w