Nor do these include all the muscles which the foot-work arouses to action. Take the horizontal bands or layers of muscle across the abdomen. Every step forward moves them, and the higher and more energetic the step, the more they have to do. A man who is not strong in these muscles will usually have a feeble walk, and very often will double forward a little, until he is in about the position of the two hands of a clock at two minutes past six, giving him the appearance of being weak here. But the strong, high step tilts the body slightly back, and gives these muscles so much to do that they soon grow good at it, and shapely and powerful accordingly. Another advantage comes from having these muscles strong, and from forming the habit of stepping as he does who has them so. By walking thus erect, the shoulders, instead of pressing over on the chest as the man tires, and so cramping his breathing, are so habitually held back that it is easier to keep them there, and the consequent fuller respiration keeps him longer fresh. This is very conspicuous in the case of one of the most famous pedestrians in the world to-day, its ex-champion long-distance walker, Daniel O'Leary. Take him when in good condition, and in one of his long tramps; on the first mile or the four hundredth, it is always the same: there he is, with head up, shoulders well back, and working busily, and--the most noticeable thing--the whole centre of the body, from the waist to the knees, thrown, if anything, actually forward of a vertical line, instead of as far, or often much farther, back of it; indeed, the point farthest forward is about two inches below his belt. A fair though not clear idea of what is meant can be had from the following sketch of him, taken at the time, on the latter part of his five-hundred-mile walk with Hughes, "the Lepper," on the track in the Hippodrome, in New York city, during the first week of October, 1878. Hughes, while proving himself a very tough and determined man, showed, as is too often the case with professional athletes, great ignorance of many things which would have helped him much had he known and followed them, and none more, perhaps, than this very matter of correct position. O'Leary's freshness, no matter how many hundred miles he has just walked, is remarkable. This rational way of carrying the body during a difficult feat, besides giving the heart and lungs full room for vigorous action, also gives the stomach and other vital organs ample play; for a glance at the sketch shows none of the thinness of flank and general sunken-in look at the waist in O'Leary so plain in Hughes, and so common among walkers in the later miles of the race. [Illustration: Fig. 6. A Correct Position for Fast Walking.]