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But now, driving him irresistibly toward the terrible idea, working upon him far more powerfully than his knowledge of headache, even than Klinker's promise of a net gain in his working ability, was this new irrationally disturbing knowledge that he was a physical incompetent.... If he had begun systematic exercise ten years ago, probably he could thrash Mr. Pat to-day.
A book rowelled the small of Klinker's back as he reclined upon the pillow, and plucking it from beneath him, he glanced at the back of it. "Vanity Fair. Didn't know you ever read story-books, Doc." The Doc did not answer. He was occupied with the thought that not one of the things that Fifi had urged upon him did he at present do. Smoking he could of course take up at any time.
At Trainer Klinker's command, Queed had resolutely permitted himself to be inducted into the Mercury; moreover, he made it a point of honor to attend the Saturday night functions, where he had the ideal chance to match his physical competence against that of other men.
For Klinker's marvelous exercises for all parts of the body had done more than add nineteen pounds to his weight, and deepen his chest, and broaden his shoulders. They had pulled and tugged at the undeveloped tissues until they had actually added a hard-won three-quarters of an inch to his height. The stoop was gone, and instead of appearing rather a small man, Mr.
It was on a closely allied theme that he had first won his editorial spurs the theme of Klinker's "blaggards," who made reformatories necessary. That was one thing: a kind of professional sentiment which the sternest scientist need not be ashamed to acknowledge.
He was annoyed by Klinker's presence and irritated by his conversation; he wanted nothing in the world so much as to be let alone. But honest Buck Klinker remained unresponsive to his mood. All the way to Mrs. Paynter's he told his new pupil grisly stories of men he had known who had thought that they could work all day and all night, and never take any exercise.
Surface was stripped to the waist, and it needed no second glance at him, as he stood now, to see that he was physically competent. There was no one-sided over-development here; Klinker's exercises, it will be remembered, were for all parts of the body.
Never had a social problem come so close home to him as this: not a thing of text-book theories, but a burning issue working out around the corner on people that Klinker knew. And Klinker's question had been an acute one, challenging the immediate value of social science itself. His thought veered, swept out of its channel by an unwonted wave of bitterness.
For thirty days henceforward at the least and a voice within him whispered that it would be for much longer his Schedule must stand like this: 8.20 Breakfast 8.40 Evolutionary Sociology 1.30 Dinner 2 Evolutionary Sociology 4.45 to 5.15 Open-Air Pedestrianism 5.15 to 6.15 The Post 6.15 to 6.45 Klinker's Exercises for all Parts of the Body 7 Supper 7.20 Evolutionary Sociology
Queed glanced up at Klinker's six feet of red beef with a flash of envy which would have been unimaginable to him so short a while ago as ten minutes. Klinker was physically competent. Nobody could insult his work and laugh at the merited retribution. "Come by my place a minute," said Klinker. "I got something to show you there. You know the shop, o' course?" No; Mr.
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