The writer of this sketch above was a little fellow himself not many years ago.

He used to look at the big muscles of one or two companions with hopeless envy.
In fact, it got so bad that this particular little fellow determined to get strong, if it took years to do it.

The first thing was to get a bar.
I selected a nice spot in the garden, planted deep in the ground two heavy timber uprights, and fastened firmly across the top, with mortised ends, a long heavy pitchfork handle, which was purchased at a village store.

When the turning-pole was finished, the next thing was to learn to do something.
The first thing I learned was to hang on the pole.
This may not seem like a very exciting trick, but the fact is my muscles were so weak that it took all my strength to hang there.

After hanging awhile I learned to swing a little back and forth, working up higher and higher, and it was a proud day when I was able to swing my body up over the bar, and rest my stomach on the top of it.

Then I had to learn to “chin myself.”
This came more slowly; but daily practice at dumb-bells and constant tugging at the bar gradually hardened the biceps and back, until on one happy day my arms bent to the strain, my head went up, and my chin projected triumphantly over the bar.

By this time the other boys became interested.
They began to put bars in their own yards, and the little fellow had to superintend the operation and give instructions.

The uprights should be about three by three, and planted with side braces.
The post-holes should be at least three feet (0.9 meter) deep, and after the posts are set, filled in with stones and earth firmly stamped down.

The bar must be just a couple of inches out of one’s reach standing under it flat footed.
Half a dozen private bars resulted in a gymnasium in an empty stable loft, equipped with a bar, a ladder, and two trapezes.
The little fellow watched his arms and legs with great concern, and could not for the life of him see that they were getting any bigger.

– Many Hands Book.