. The natvral man : a romance of the golden age . burner iTOTH Arranged and printed for the pub-lisher, AT Alwil Shop, Ridgewood,New Jersey. Copyright, 1902, by J. Wm. Lloyd. u/ cy^ //^ ZfTSM The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?Is he waiting for civilization, or is he past itand mastering it? Whitman. *If you would live at your ease, savs Democ-ritus, manage but a few things. * * * For thegreater part of what we say and do, being unnec-cessary, if this were but once retrenched weshould have both more leisure & less disturbance. Marcus Aurelius. Digitized by the Internet Archivein 2010 w
. The natvral man : a romance of the golden age . burner iTOTH Arranged and printed for the pub-lisher, AT Alwil Shop, Ridgewood,New Jersey. Copyright, 1902, by J. Wm. Lloyd. u/ cy^ //^ ZfTSM The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?Is he waiting for civilization, or is he past itand mastering it? Whitman. *If you would live at your ease, savs Democ-ritus, manage but a few things. * * * For thegreater part of what we say and do, being unnec-cessary, if this were but once retrenched weshould have both more leisure & less disturbance. Marcus Aurelius. Digitized by the Internet Archivein 2010 with funding fromDuke University Libraries // is not meanty O Reader^ that youshould live life as this man lived it, but onlythat you should fearlessly and gladly liveyour own life. CHAP T E R I. T was June; hazy, hot, volup-tuous, with just a hint in theclouds piling like pillows of _ down behind the Western bourne that upon them Thunder andStorm were sleeping. Just here the trees opened a little onthe lower side of the terrace and she couldsee far down the mountain slope and offover the cities and fields of the plain. Lazywith the heat her horse stopped; or per-haps horses also like beautiful views. Be itas you please, here they paused and gazeddownward. Then occurred that which to lo The Natural Man her seemed as a vision, a phantasy. There was a clatter of hoofs below,beating the still air vividly, and along theopen space of red road down there, perhapsone hundred yards away, flew a nakedhorse, that is saddleless, bridleless, and onhis back a naked man, or nearly so, wavinga green branch. Hardly had he disappearedbehind the thick shade of overarchingtrees before she doubted her eyes, so likea relief on an ancient tomb had seemed themuscular figure clinging with sinewy legs
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