Now, I don't eat as I do and have my children eat as they do just for a
fad. I think nothing is more stupid and silly than for people to do
certain things just because somebody else does them. We should all have
good sound reasons for our actions in this world. We should all try our
very best to use sound common sense. That's why I say that people who
are the offspring of nervous parents should not eat animal food of any
kind after they are twenty-one, and they should never at any time eat
eggs. It would be far better for them if they did not eat commercial
sugar. But I do admit that when some of these people get well by
dieting, they are able to eat sparingly of all these things and still
keep well. But some people can never eat them and I am one of the
number.

I remember one summer about two years ago I was on a lecture tour for a
Chautauqua Bureau, and it seemed that surely I got into the very worst
eating places that summer that I ever had in my life. For three or four
days I ate only eggs, as they seemed to be about the only food I could
get besides bread and butter. At the end of the third day--I remember
the time very well--when night came I could not sleep, and just as when
I had one of my nervous breakdowns, that old feeling of inexpressible
gloom began to settle over me. I knew instantly the cause of it, because
twice before when I had purposely experimented with eating eggs I had
had similar experiences. I immediately took a heavy cathartic and after
having thoroughly rid myself of the poison I again slept well.

But I am not alone in this fight against the use of eggs for nervous
people. John Burroughs said that eggs poisoned him, and I have talked
with men of great wealth and great business ability who have reached the
top by their own efforts, who have told me that eggs poisoned them.

Now I have found that for these nervous people animal food is a slow
poison. Sooner or later it will do its work.

And just here I wish to say that there are some people who seemingly can
eat almost anything and not suffer from so doing. Last summer I talked
with Count Ilya Tolstoy, son of Leo Tolstoy, the celebrated Russian
writer. The Count, who is also a lecturer, told me that he was obliged
to have eggs and that he had eaten them all his life. He said his
appetite was never satisfied unless he ate eggs. He is now past sixty,
and apparently is strong and rugged. Now eggs no doubt are good for him.
But right here i