just such a family, and just such a family life, as I like to think of as typical of our citizenship at its best. With affectionate regard and esteem Faithfully yours

THEODORE ROOSEVELT.

The Progressives, as might have been expected, had been poorly organized. The time had been too short for intensive development of our forces. We had no machine, and in a number of the counties there was scarcely a skeleton of an organization. It was, in fact, not a party in the ordinary sense of the word at all, but rather a crusade, and what we lacked in organization we made up by an abundance of spontaneous ardor. We did not really expect victory, although Roosevelt several times said that while he knew he would be defeated, he thought I would be elected. As a matter of fact, I believe I was the only candidate of the Progressive cause for Governor in any State who ran ahead of Roosevelt. In New York State he got 389,000 votes, in round numbers, while I had 393,000.

I knew from observations during my campaign from one end of the State to the other, how poorly, from a political standpoint, the Progressives were organized, and I confess I did not see the slightest chance of being elected. I was not disappointed, and I think that the men generally who ran for offices on the Progressive ticket were not disappointed. They realized that their contest was waged for a cause and not for office, and from an educational point of view the campaign was eminently successful.

Considering the vastness of the undertaking and the shortness of the time, we did as well as any of us could have anticipated, if not better. We were confident that the cause would triumph, in a degree at least, no matter what party was in power, and I think the facts amply justify our belief that the Progressive ideals made a definite impression upon the country, and have given strength, if not dominant influence, to Progressive principles in both of the old parties.

N the old pre-war days it was my business to lecture at the British

upon great wars in which the British Empire might be involved (not only as to how to move armies and fleets about and how to win battles, but also about what went on behind armies and fleets, about finance and economics, and their influence upon the issue of wars). It was a big subject, about which, in common with my audience of staff officers in embryo of the British army, I knew next to nothing. We searched the city of London for an expert to come to Camberley and tell us about the effect of finance upon war under present-day conditions of international credit. After searching for three years, we came sadly to the conclusion that no such expert existed. There were some who claimed to have studied the effect of war upon finance, a very different affair. Even they had but little knowledge of their subject. The most reliable of them told us that if Britain intervened in a great European war it would cost us about four million dollars per day. It cost us nearer forty million dollars per day before we were through with it, and it left us heavily in debt to the United States.

International finance is a matter for experts. European nations are now tottering into chaos, famine, and civil tumult on account of recent developments in this international finance, and, as usual, experts disagree about the best remedy. Who shall decide? Great Britain used to be a creditor country; now she is a debtor country to the United States, and certainly not in a po

sition to help other people until she has paid her own debts. She cannot pay them at present out of what the bankrupt states owe her, but she obviously has to pay them. Her credit depends upon it, and credit is everything in international finance, as it is in all finance on a large scale. At least that is the view of the inexpert man in the street, whatever the experts or the men in public life who are guiding our destinies may say. In these circumstances, after all the learned disquisitions by the experts and the Balfour note which gives actual figures (with far too many ciphers for them to be grasped by the ordinary mind), the time seems to have come for the ordinary man to have a say in the matter. Disagreement between experts has an unfortunate tendency to spread to the nations which they represent, or to which they belong. I quote from memory, but the outstanding point is that Great Britain owes the United States nearly four billion dollars. What Great Britain did with the money is beside the point. As a matter of fact, it was spent in America upon munitions of war, but its equivalent was lent to Allies who, without it, would have been unable to carry on the war; the point is that the sum was borrowed and the man in the street means to see that it is paid back somehow; but how?

We used to be told at Camberley that business transactions between nations are very different from transactions between individuals, and that is now a commonplace remark. Individual men pay their debts in "money"-in gold, or in paper with gold or something else of

the nature of a token with a standard value behind it. There is no use in talking about paying a debt of four billion dollars in gold. The first reason (out of thirty-two) given by the commander of Tilbury fort to Queen Elizabeth for not firing a salute in her honor was that he had no powder. She was graciously pleased to dispense with the other reasons. The first reason why such a debt as I have mentioned cannot be paid in gold is similar to the Tilbury commander's reason for not saluting. There is no gold, when sums like that are involved. How, then, can the debt be paid? We are told by the experts that it could be paid by goods, by sending a lot of manufactured or partly manufactured articles over to America for nothing. We were taught at Camberley not to bother about statistics of imports and exports as indications of prosperity, but to remember that the best prosperity barometer to consult was employment. If a nation had few unemployed, that nation was prosperous, and vice versa. That means that sending manufactured or partly manufactured British goods to America in payment of the debt would be very bad for America, because unemployment would increase there. It would be very good for Britain, because employment would go up. It is true that the British workers would have to be paid by the British taxpayer, but that would not matter. At present he is paying millions of them a dole for doing nothing, and anything is better than that.

How, then, can Britain pay her huge debt to America, when the gold does

exist, and payment in goods would only

do harm to Americans? If my late friend Sir Robert Giffen, the economist, were alive, he would say, by "invisible exports"-in other words, by services rendered. For instance, the British Government (in other words, the British taxpayer) could subsidize the British merchant service to carry goods about the world for nothing for American shippers. How would that work? The latest shipping returns show that the actual amount of British steam tonnage stands now at about the same figure that it did before the war, in spite of war losses, but the total world tonnage has gone up, so that the British percentage of the total is now only about 33% per cent,

compared with 44% per cent before the war. The principal reason for this is that American steam tonnage has increased enormously, by nearly 11,000,000, since 1914. Presumably it is desired to keep these vessels running. The question of doing so by subsidies is a controversial matter of great domestic concern to Americans, and one about which discussion emanating from elsewhere would very naturally be resented, but it is fairly obvious that "services rendered," in the way of cheap freights offered by British shipping, is not likely to be an acceptable method for Great Britain to discharge her debt to America.

We seem to be drifting into an eco

If he

nomic morass. For the experts there may be some solution in view of the difficulty. Let us hope that they will find one. The man in the street cannot grasp the complications of international economics; he finds it easier to argue from the individual to the mass. wants to draw his money from a bank where it is lodged, he is accustomed to being asked, "How will you have it?" John Bull is at present in the position of a banker, with a debt to Jonathan, and it seems to the ordinary man in Great Britain to be high time to ask a similar question of his creditor, whom he has every intention of paying, if only he could be informed of any acceptable method of payment.

I

N this progressive day and age, when we seldom have to walk unless we wish to, we are beginning to realize what a splendid recreation walking is. A care-free rhythmic saunter along pleasant highways and byways brings health, cheer, and vision.

Now comes autumn, the golden time of the year for walking. It is the serene, soft-smelling season when sweltering days and annoying insects are of the past, the season of marvelous color torrents of russet browns, golden yellows, bronze reds, and flaming scarlets. The time of all times to go the foot-path way to the painted woods.

The pleasure of any walk is largely dependent upon the elimination of all sense of pain and discomfort. In fact, when you are getting the best out of walking you are unconscious of the presence of legs and feet. This condition is impossible unless the feet are wholly devoid of pain or blemish. A blister on the hand may be of slight consequence, but a blister on the foot is likely to mean distressing agony.

It is with various practical details of walking that the present article is concerned: feet, footgear, and the actual physical motion of walking. Most foot misery which interrupts the pleasure of a long hike is wholly preventable, and even when trouble does start it can oftentimes be stopped before well under way. An ounce of prevention is of course worth more than a pound of cure, but I will try to indicate both of these.

A fairly rough-and-ready piece of footgear having broad toe-caps and wide, low heels is quite the most suitable shoe for hiking-provided it fits. But if it doesn't fit, it is almost as hard on the feet as pointed toes and French heels. The term "fit" as applied to hiking shoes is commonly misunderstood. When the average person buys a pair of shoes for city use, he or she is fitted in somewhat e same manner that a man is for a v hat; that is, comfortably snug.

GOING WALKING

BY ELON JESSUP

And one can walk ten blocks in such shoes without any great discomfort, but if one were to go ten miles there would be a different story. Some people buy hiking shoes in this same manner. Which is a tragic beginning for any long walk.

A hiking shoe "fit" means a shoe which is at least a half size, and possibly a full size, larger than footgear which is ordinarily worn in average city use. Only around the heel and over the instep should there be permitted any suggestion of snugness. Blisters sometimes develop as a result of too much lateral play of the heel because of roominess of the shoe at this point, but, even so, these can oftentimes be prevented by lacing the shoe more tightly.

Of prime importance in a shoe are length, width, and height of toe-cap. During the course of a long, hard walk your feet change size, blood-vessels become distended, and the feet grow no ticeably larger. Tight-fitting shoes under such conditions are a forerunner of sore feet. Your feet must always have

NATALIE DE BOGORY

is a name which we always like to see at the head of an article in our morning mail. We think

that our readers share with us our enthusiasm for her interesting interpretations of the foreigners within our gates. A forthcoming Outlook article by Miss De Bogory is called "The Turning of the Tide."

It tells the story of sojourners in our country who are returning to their native lands. Some of their reasons for going back to Europe ought to make Americans do a little hard thinking.

free play; not enough to invite chafing, but a sufficient amount to allow them to function without constriction. In using the term "fit" I do not mean a shoe which is far too large for one.

We hear a great deal, and rightly so, concerning the evils of shoes which are too narrow, but not so much about shoes which are too short. Yet in some respects the short shoe is the worse offender of the two. During walking the toes have a way of working forward, and if with each step they meet a firm leather wall there is bound to be trouble in the form of toe blisters or similar abrasions. If the shoes are of sufficient length and still toe blisters threaten, these can usually be prevented by lacing the shoe more tightly. There is no cure, however, for a shoe which is too short. And the same may be said of the low stiff toe-cap. When blisters form on top of the toes, you may hold the toe-cap accountable for the damage.

In addition to the natural distention of the feet while walking there is the question of bulkiness of stockings to be considered. The wool-stocking habit so far as hiking is concerned is an excellent habit to acquire. To most hiking feet wool is far more satisfactory than cotton. Wet feet which are incased in wool are no special disadvantage, whereas with cotton the result may be a bad cold. Furthermore, the comfortable elasticity of wool on the feet serves a valuable purpose.

What has been said in regard to roominess of shoes applies to some extent to wool stockings. There is of course much greater elasticity to wool than leather, but the fact remains that stockings which have shrunken badly may play havoc with pedal comfort. Stockings should be neither so large that they wrinkle nor so small that they squeeze the feet. A tight, pinching stocking will start an ingrowing toe-nail about as quickly as will a tight shoe. Stockings which are badly shrunken

should be thrown away. Remember also that there are few surer means of starting blisters than wearing stockings which either have holes or which have been darned.

Sensible shoes, fortunately enough, are much more common to-day than they were. Even in the city streets French heels and pointed toes are being supplemented by normal heels and broad toes. It is now possible for any woman to buy a pair of shoes which will not squeeze her feet beyond recognition. The Young Women's Christian Association is performing a valuable service in recommending certain shoes which pass the common-sense test.

So far as men's shoes are concerned, there is none more satisfactory than the army shoe. The so-called "sporting" shoe, which some people consider a necessary adjunct to a trip to the woods,

swers very well provided that it fits,

but one must remember that fit rather than appearance and a lot of waterproofing is of first importance. Furthermore, leather which has been thoroughly waterproofed does not permit much ventilation. And the feet need ventilation. In any case, let me urge that you never make the mistake of starting out on a long hike with a brand-new pair of shoes. Break them in first.

A pair of feet which are tender through disuse can develop painful ailments during a long walk even though the footgear be above reproach. Feet become hardened with walking, but if one has not done any walking to speak of for months on end it is folly suddenly to attempt a fifteen or twenty mile jaunt without preliminary conditioning of some sort. A rather effective artificial method of hardening the feet is that of taking a series of foot-baths for several days. Either cold salt water or a mix

ture of alum and salt in water is likely to toughen the feet appreciably. A solution of alcohol and salt is also effective. A strongly alkaline soap is bad for the feet, in that it has a tendency to crack the skin. The most effective foottoughening process is the wholly natural method of getting out and using one's feet.

Any hiker, however seasoned or unseasoned he may be, can with profit soak his feet in salt water before going to bed if he plans to take a long walk next day. And before starting out in the morning let him rub talcum powder on his feet and sprinkle some in his shoes. The time-honored custom of rubbing soap on the feet or on the inner sides of the stockings cannot always be recommended, for reasons which I have just mentioned.

During the noon-time rest of a long jaunt you will find it advisable to take off shoes and stockings, wipe out the insides of the shoes, bathe the feet, dry these thoroughly, add more talcum powder, shake and rub the stockings in order to eliminate as much dirt as possible, and then put these on either inside out or each upon the foot other than it has been worn on during the morning. If at any time during the day's hike one senses foot trouble coming on, an immediate halt should be called and investigation started before the trouble gets well under way.

If a blister has appeared and there seems likelihood of its breaking with further walking, it should be immediately opened and then covered with adhesive tape, so that the skin will not be rubbed off. Great care should be taken to prevent infection, for a muchworn sock is by no means devoid of germs. To open a blister, sterilize the end of a needle or your knife in the flame of a match, prick the skin through the side of the blister, and gently squeeze out the water. Never prick the blister on top. If a cramp develops in the leg muscles, sit down and knead these. A cramp in the side can be relieved by drawing a deep breath and bending over.

At the end of a day's tramp the shoes should be cleaned (especially so the insides) with a damp cloth. When wet. they should be dried in a gentle heat. A great amount of heat shrinks the leather and starts foot trouble the next time you wear them. They should be oiled sufficiently to keep them pliable, but no more; too much oil clogs the ventilation pores. When feet do not receive their required amount of ventilation, they are likely to become tender.

The right footgear and proper care of the feet are, as I have indicated, of vital importance to the pleasure of a hike. The choice of route which one follows also has a direct bearing upon this subject, sometimes to a greater extent than one thinks. Avoid all macadam roads. Macadam is jarring to the feet and passing automobiles are jarring to a hiker's nerves. Stick to back roads and pleasant winding trails. A Government topo

graphical map of any given locality will point out a network of these.

Suppose that it pleases your fancy to make an extended walking tour covering several days of lugging your bed and home in a pack on your back. This is a thoroughly practicable undertaking, but here again due consideration must be given to comfort. To carry a pack which does not presently become a weighty burden is an art which requires a considerable amount of studious attention before starting. If you do not wish to become a pack-horse, you must cut down the weight to the last possible ounce. And you must come to realize before the start of the trip that you can get along comfortably with about half as many articles of equipment as you would like to take.

We now come to the actual physical motion of walking. There is more to be said upon this subject than most people suppose. Strange as it may seem, the average city-bred person doesn't know how to walk. The average country person does. City folk have been called "leg-walkers" and country people "body. walkers." Which sums up the matter in a nutshell.

These two respective gaits are largely the result of environment. The city person has grown careless of energy and balance. The energy in his legs is sufficient to carry him the requisite few blocks to which he is accustomed, and the sidewalks are so neatly level that he doesn't have to pay much attention to balance.

So far as exercise is concerned, that of the city gait is confined almost entirely to the legs. The average city stride is short and choppy, the toes are pointed outward, the heels strike the pavement with a dull, sickening thud, the hips remain fairly rigid-in fact, the whole body above the legs is close to rigid. Such a gait is comparable to the actions of an automatic toy. It is illbalanced and exhausting.

In contrast to this leg-walking of the city we have in the body-walking of the country a gait which is rolling, easy, rhythmic, and because of the fact that the whole body comes into play is a fine all-around exercise and good for long distances. The stride in level places is as long as it can comfortably be made, while on hills it is both short and leisurely. The toes, instead of pointing outward, as in the city gait, are pointing straight ahead in the line of march (toeing-out causes no small amount of foot trouble).

An English physician some time ago made a collection of well-worn city and country shoes for the purpose of investi gating the bottoms of these. He found it almost universally true that the shoes of the city people were worn out at the heel, while those of the country people showed the greatest amount of wear on the soles.

This investigation is fairly significant of the two methods of planting the foot on the ground. It means that the city

person walks on his heels, that his foot functions somewhat after the order of the end of a "peg leg." As against this, the countryman's step is far more elas tic; it is nearly flat-footed at the moment when the foot is planted on the ground, so that all muscles and arches come into play. These parts happily combine and work in harmony for the forward plunge. With heel walking there can be no such manner of elas ticity and team-work.

While climbing a slope a city-bred person is likely to go to the opposite extreme from heel walking, plant the front part of the foot firmly in the ground and leave the heel suspended in the air. This is a muscle-tiring proceeding. In any sort of walking the heel has a distinct service to perform. The point which I wish to bring out is that the heel should not be shouldered with more than its allotted amount of work.

Body-walking has the twofold advantage of being fine exercise and a means of conserving one's energy, while legwalking at the best is merely a means of locomotion. A method which has been suggested for testing one's self in this respect is to take a leather strap and adjust it around the chest. The strap should be just tight enough to prevent much expansion of the chest. If the wearer walks about fifty yards and finds that the strap gives him no discomfort, he may conclude that he is a leg-walker; but if it gives him considerable inconvenience this means that he is accustomed to opening his lungs when walking, and hence is a body-walker.

Body-walking, the rhythmic combined movement of legs, hips, chest, arms, your whole body, is the only natural way of walking, the only method that will make you forget that you have legs and allow you thoroughly to enjoy the countryside.