The
ankle was small and curved like an axe handle and looked as tough.
There are times when the mind lapses into vacancy. Nothing interests
it. I find it so while waiting to have my berth made up; sleep is too
near to waste gray matter.
A man's thighs, however, interest me in any mood and at any time. While
you may get a man's character from his face, you can, if you will, get
his past life from his thigh. It is the walking beam of his locomotion;
controls his paddles and is developed in proportion to its uses. It
indicates, therefore, the man's habits and his mode of life.
If he has sat all day with one leg lapped over the other, arm on chair,
head on hand, listening or studying--preachers, professors, and all the
other sedentaries sit like this--then the thigh shrinks, the muscles
droop, the bones of the ankle bulge, and the knee-joints push through.
If he delivers mail, or collects bills, or drives a pack-mule, or walks
a tow-path, the muscles of the thigh are hauled taut like cables, the
knee-muscles keep their place, the calves are full of knots--one big one
in a bunch just below the strap of his knickerbockers, should he
wear them.
Pages:
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276