In Passing I
Would Call Your Attention To "Shorts." Shorts Are Loose, Bobbed
Off Khaki Breeches, Like Knee Drawers.
With them are worn puttees
or leather leggings, and low boots.
The knees are bare. They are
much affected by young Englishmen. I observed them carefully at
every opportunity, and my private opinion is that man has rarely
managed to invent as idiotically unfitted a contraption for the
purpose in hand. In a country teeming with poisonous insects,
ticks, fever-bearing mosquitoes; in a country where vegetation is
unusually well armed with thorns, spines and hooks, mostly
poisonous; in a country where, oftener than in any other a man is
called upon to get down on his hands and knees and crawl a few
assorted abrading miles, it would seem an obvious necessity to
protect one's bare skin as much as possible. The only reason
given for these astonishing garments is that they are cooler and
freer to walk in. That I can believe. But they allow ticks and
other insects to crawl up, mosquitoes to bite, thorns to tear,
and assorted troubles to enter. And I can vouch by experience
that ordinary breeches are not uncomfortably hot or tight.
Indeed, one does not get especially hot in the legs anyway. I
noticed that none of the old-time hunters like Cuninghame or Judd
wore shorts. The real reason is not that they are cool, but that
they are picturesque. Common belief to the contrary, your average
practical, matter-of-fact Englishman loves to dress up.
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