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For a pair of antiquated and out-of-practice legs such as I had with me, nine miles added to an earlier thirteen, began to appear like something of an undertaking as the afternoon wore on, and I communed with myself as to just why my running gear was being pushed at such a furious pace, and this a holiday, but did not learn much of interest except that there I was and thence I must.

Some time later my knees began to squeak and a warm spot appeared on a little toe, but just at this juncture a house swung into view and I knew Oak Park was nigh.

It was heartrending to learn that they did not and would not take boarders, and that the only man who did in those parts lived a half mile further on. No amount of looking pleasant had the least effect, and I must compromise on a glass of water, which my dry and withered interior sadly needed. Testing my knees gently and finding that they would bend without breaking, and that my feet could be lifted and pushed forward if care were exercised, the journey was again taken up; but why linger further on the sad scene?