Suppose there were a man who was perfectly elastic, and who made everything he touched perfectly elastic. Fortunately there is no such person, but suppose an elastic man _did_ exist: He walks with a spring and a bound; his feet bounce up like rubber balls each time they strike the earth; his legs snap back into place after each step as if pulled by a spring. If he stumbles and falls to the ground, he bounces back up into the air without a scar. (You see, his skin springs back into shape even if it is scratched, so that a scratch instantly heals.) And he bounces on and on forever without stopping. Suppose you, seeing his plight, try to stop him. Since we are pretending that he makes everything he touches elastic, the instant you touch him you bounce helplessly away in the opposite direction. You may think your clothes will be wrinkled by all this bouncing about, but since we are imagining that you have caught the elastic touch from the elastic man, your clothes which touch you likewise become perfectly elastic. So no matter how mussed they get, they promptly straighten out again to the condition they were in when you touched the elastic man. If you notice that your shoe lace was untied just before you became elastic, and you now try to tie it and tuck it in, you find it most unmanageable. It insists upon flying out of your shoe and springing untied again. Perhaps your hair was mussed before you became elastic. Now it is impossible to comb it straight; each hair springs back like a fine steel wire. If you take a handkerchief from your pocket to wipe your perspiring brow, you find that it does not stay unfolded. As soon as it is spread out on your hand, it snaps back to the shape and the folds it had while in your pocket. Suppose you bounce up into an automobile for a ride. The automobile, now being made elastic by your magic touch, bounds up into the air at the first bump it strikes, and thereafter it goes hopping down the street in a most distressing manner, bouncing off the ground like a rubber ball each time it comes down. And each time it bumps you are thrown off the seat into the air. You find it hard to stay in any new position. Your body always tends to snap back to the position you were in when you first became elastic. If you touch a trotting horse and it becomes elastic, the poor animal finds that his legs always straighten out to their trotting position, whether he wants to walk or stand still or lie down.