the open air where I could get plenty of exercise and practice deep
breathing. This agreed with me and I seemed to be gaining in strength, but
I came to the conclusion that I might as well turn my exercise into a
useful channel; so I went out into the country and hired myself out to a
farmer. Here I got, in a very short time, a bit more of the "strenuous
life"--a late term--than I had bargained for. We had to get up at four,
milk several cows, and curry and harness the horses before breakfast. We
then kept "humping" until sunset, except during the hour we took for
dinner. On rainy days we were supposed to work in the barn, greasing
harness, shelling seed-corn and "sifting" grass-seed. That old farmer
seemed to realize the verity of the old couplet:--

"Satan finds some mischief still,
For idle hands to do."

[Illustration: Looking for new symptoms.]

The reader will readily imagine how hard labor served me. My muscles were
as sore as if I had been the recipient of a thorough mauling. I tried to
stand the work as long as I could, for I thought it would, like the other
remedies prescribed for me, "do me good." I had been there a week (it
seemed to me an eternity) when, one morning, I was so sore and stiff that
I could not get out of bed. One of the other hired men came to my rescue
and gave me a thorough rubbing with liniment, after which I was able to
crawl down to breakfast. The old skinflint of a farmer then had the
audacity to discharge me, saying that he "didn't want no dood from the
city monkeyin' around in the way, nohow."

CHAPTER VI.

NEW SYMPTOMS AND THE PURSUIT OF HEALTH.

The pursuit of health is like the pursuit of happiness in that you do not
always know when you have either. It may furthermore be likened to chasing
a will-o'-the-wisp that ever keeps a few safe paces ahead of you. The
thought that I had to keep busy at something calculated to promote my
health was a habit that I could not easily relinquish. So now I began to
read up and practice physical culture--which I had always spoken of as
physical torture. I had read that any puny, warped little body could, by
proper and persistent training, be made sturdy and strong. I had no desire
to grow big, ugly muscles that look like knots, but I was effeminate
enough to think that a touch of physical culture might enhance my beauty
as well as make me healthier.

Calisthenics being an esthetic exercise, I began practicing it with the
usu