ated. It may be any of these
things that keep you from getting the rest that is really so very
necessary for health and comfort and good looks.

Heavy bedding is also distressing, and as good a maker of nightmares as
deviled crabs or plum pudding. Light blankets make the best covering.
Let the window be open at top and bottom, so as to have perfect
ventilation. Don't eat an indigestible lunch before retiring; this is
the greatest of all beauty follies. Lie on the abdomen, with your hands
at your sides. This position will keep your shoulders back, will give
you a good figure and a better carriage. When you have followed these
directions and still find that you spend most of the night crawling
around over your bed vainly seeking a comfortable and restful spot,
then you can make up your mind that you need a good tonic and a
doctor's counsel, for your nerves or your digestive organs are not as
they should be.

To sum it all up in a nutshell: You must sleep well, and you must sleep
a great deal if you wish to be the "woman beautiful." Sitting up late
at night will cause grey hair as will nothing else. It makes those dark
circles about the eyes, and causes the "windows of the soul," to lose
half their luster and softness and beauty. Who ever saw a pretty woman
with dull, lifeless eyes? She wouldn't be pretty were she so afflicted.
By sleeping properly, the body is kept stronger and fresher, and thus
the complexion is benefited greatly. Wrinkles do not come so soon, the
skin does not take on that muddy, yellow hue as it would otherwise, and
cheeks are pink and rosy with that greatest of all rouges--Health.

There's a heap of truth in all this. If you do not believe it, then
give up late hours--be they for study or pleasure--and see if the
problem won't work itself out nicely with you. I think it will. In
fact, I am really quite sure of it.

EXERCISE

"Better to hunt in fields for health unbought
Then fee the doctor for a nauseous draught
The wise for cure on exercise depend;
God never made His work for man to mend."

--_Dryden._

It would have done your heart good to see her.

She came into the room with the briskness of a March flurry of snow.
Her cheeks were poppy-red, her eyes sparkled with the mere joy of
living. And she chuckled happily as she tucked back the curly scolding
locks that were flying about, all helter-skelter, like feathers
unloosed or fluff