Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1896-02-22
OUR SAVAGE ANCESTORS.
Ons Thing rnherited from Them Il Tast
q.

OUR SAVAGE ANCESTORS.
due Thing rahsritsd from Them L. Taste
for Pionics.
Perhaps there are few more exact In
stances Of what Is called atavism than
the disposition Of the whole civilized
world In summer time toward the pic
mic. II Is not by any means the need
Of association, of eating hard-boiled
eggs and dry sandwiches and drinking
warm lemonade In company, or OF
sharing even daintier satisfactions to
the appetite. II is not the need Of get
ting shoes full of sand, OF coming homo
with draggled skirts and limp linen
and aching backs and burned faces, to
say nothing Of insipient infiuenzas and
rheumatisms It Is purely and simply
the need of being In the open air. and
of deceiving ones self into the glad
Idea that one Is rarely living there, OF
having the freedom Of earth and sky
and water and wind and all outdoors,
rs the first savage ancestors did. For
Il Is not SO many generations since the
cabins and caves were mere sleeping
places, and the life OF people was lived
out doors, and not so many more since
the dens of the forest gave all the
shelter there was So 1t Is not ut
all impossible that, beyond tho
love OF what is pleasant, this
craving for outdoor life is merely q
hereditary tendency, n survival OF the
ancestral quality that probably had the
animal instinct for home, and loved its
environments as In the main we love
our own. and II It did not love II knew
of no other and SO accepted 1t rs q
natural affair. Perhaps this Is still
more probable because on the picnic,
more than elsewhere, we are apt to re-
turn in our manners In some measure
to the savagery of our earlier people.
We sit upon the ground there, we lie
upon 1t; there is nothing else to sit on;
we do not scruple to eat pie with our
fingers; water au naturel In the alb
seuce of ice Is not undrinkable; clam
she'll In cleft stick makes us salts
factory spoon; crawling and creeping
things about us are matters OF no con-
Germ; sometimes we even dispense
with chaperon; we do not always
pause to regret that we have not the
woodcraft of these early people that
taught them how TO get the most COM
fort out of the least material. or
course there are picnics where ice is
taken along, and pate de foie, and
aspic jelly, and champagne, where
there are buffers and walters follow
ing. and all is made as conspicuously
like the life of the picnickers when at
home rs possible; but these only prove
still more strongly the inherent love
of outdoors, Us the Vatican party,
painted on q fan. demonstrates its
value when II showed people with
every luxury OF life in palaces finding
the picnic attractive enough for chief
pleasure.
To most people the pleasantest room
In the world is not so pleasant rs an
open piazza; and to the healthy the
widest and loveliest vine-hung piazza
Is not as enchanting as the wood. the
seashore, the mountain. or even the
high field or the lakeside. The love of
liberty seems to be fed and gratitied in
the sense of the surrounding height
ard space. whether consciously or 9th.
erwise. The love OF beauty, too, finds
its nearest satisfaction In the outer
world.
Thou canst not wave thy stan In air.
Or lip thy paddle In the lake.
But II carves the bow OF beauty there,
And the ripples In rhymes the oar forsakc.
Moreover, it is not impossible that,
without being aware Of IL, we are at.
tracted to this sem blance of wild life
by the blind instinct Of returning to
the dear old mother earth, or laying
our head on her warm breast, and Of
receiving her unspoken sympathy in
our joys, her silent consolation in our
trout BILE. And although we do not 90
camping and picnicking with any ulti-
mate view to philosophy and the study
of the science of the unknown, yet
thousand questions that find no nn'
swer In the house answer themselves
outdoors.
Uprose the merry sphinx
And crouched nc more In stone,
She melted into purple cloud.
She silvered In the moon,
She spired into yellow flame.
She Powered In blossoms red.
She flowed into o foaming wave,
She stood Monadnoc's head.
-Harper's Bazaar.