of the time, and if he goes without eggs
it will be all the better for him. I wish from the bottom of my heart
that I had never tasted an egg!

What a fine thing it would be if we so trained our children that they
would never suffer from "nerves"! And usually it could be done. The
belief that because nervous parents have broken down their children
sooner or later must break down, is our greatest curse. But such a
belief is absurd, for if dieting, outdoor exercise, and a few other
simple rules are observed, there is no danger that it will happen. To be
sure, these rules must be definitely understood and strictly adhered to.

If we treat this misfortune in the manner I shall mention later, we can
make our lives more successful and infinitely happier than the lives of
those who have never learned self-control. For instance, I am far
healthier than men all around me who seem to be able to eat three
Christmas dinners each day. They sit at the table and boast about being
"good feeders," then later they come to me for pills, saying, "There is
nothing the matter with me, doctor, but I thought I had better take a
little medicine so I won't get ill." But they don't fool me. I know
exactly what is the matter with them. They are so full of pork they
can't think. To tell the truth, we people who have suffered from a
nervous breakdown or some illness akin to it, and have learned that we
must eat right or die, are of all people the most fortunate.

Every now and then I hear some good old sister, with a face like a full
moon and jowls like a bloodhound, say, as she finishes her third piece
of mince pie,--her waist line having extended accordingly,--"Isn't it
too bad about poor brother Jones! He looks so terribly thin! They say he
has fallen away from one hundred and sixty pounds to only a hundred and
fifty. And they do say he can't eat meat and eggs at all! The poor man!"

But the real facts of the case are that brother Jones is able to walk
ten miles any day, and the possibility is that in the not distant future
he will read in his morning paper that sister Sue Portly has been
operated on for gall stones and the number reported is almost
unbelievable, about three hundred, in fact. And so, all the time sister
Portly was feeling sorry for lithe, energetic brother Jones, she was a
walking stone quarry, as it were, and yet didn't know it.

So don't worry because you have to diet or because after reading these
lines you determine that