am and expect a miracle to be worked on a bad complexion in one
brief night. How absurd, when the cause of the worry may be a bad
digestion, impure blood or general lack of vitality! One might just as
well expect a corn plaster to cure a bad case of pneumonia, or an eye
lotion to remedy locomotor ataxia. The cream may struggle bravely and
heal the little eruptions for a day or so, but how can it possibly
effect a permanent cure when the cause flourishes like a blizzard at
Medicine Hat or a steam radiator in the first warm days of April?

Cold cream, pure powders and certain harmless face washes are godsends
to womankind, but they can't do everything! They have their
limitations, just like any other good thing. You may have a perfect
paragon of a kitchen lady, whose angel food is more heavenly than
frapped snowflakes, but you can't really expect her to build you a
four-story house with little dofunnies on the cupolas. Of course not.
Angel cake is her limit! And that's the way with those lovely liquids
and things on your pretty spindle-legged dressing table. They can do a
good deal in the beautifying line, but they can't do everything. Give
them the help of perfect health and scrupulous cleanliness of the skin,
and lo! what wonders they will work!

There is but one way--and it's so simple--of making oneself good to
look upon. Resolve to live hygienically. There is nothing in the world
which works swifter toward a clear, glowing, fine-textured and
beautiful complexion than a simple, natural diet of grains and nuts and
fruits. But you women--oh! it positively pains me to think of the
broiled lobsters, the deviled crabs with tartar sauce, the pickles, and
the conglomerate nightmare-lunches that you consume. And yet you're
forever fussing over leathery skins, dark-circled eyes and a lack of
rosy pink cheeks. Oh, woman! woman! why aren't you wise?

Here are some rules. They're golden, too:

Eat with wisdom and good sense. That means to pension off the pie and
its companion workers of physical woe.

Take a tepid sponge bath every day, either upon arising in the morning
or just before going to bed.

Limit the hot scrubbings to one a week.

Exercise with regularity, and dress as a rational human being should.

Drink three pints of pure, distilled water every day.

See that the bedroom is well ventilated, and don't heap up the pillows
until you have a mountain range upon which to rest your poor, tired
head. A flat bed an