quite as important as individual
health. For too many of us, living hygienically is absolutely
impossible without inconveniencing and bothering the majority of
persons with whom we live. I remember a girl in college,--a fresh-air
fiend,--who every morning, no matter how cold, threw the windows wide
open. Then, with forty others, I thought this girl a nuisance as well
as a menace to health, but now, twenty years afterwards, I find myself
wanting to do the same thing. Professor Patten, the economist, whom I
shall quote many times because he is particularly interested in the
purpose of this book, was recently dining at my house and illustrated
from his own health the importance of teaching hygiene so as to affect
social as well as personal standards. "To be true to my own health
needs, I ought to have declined nearly everything that has been offered
me for dinner, but in the long run, if I am going to visit, my eating
what is placed before me is better for society than making those who
entertain me feel uncomfortable."

Most of us know what uphill work it is to live hygienically in an
unhygienic environment. I remember how hard it was to eat happily when
sitting beside a college professor who took brown pills before each
meal, yellow pills between each course, and a dose of black medicine
after the meal was over. Mariano, an Italian lad cured of bone
tuberculosis by out-of-door salt air at Sea Breeze, returned to his
tenement home an ardent apostle of fresh air day and night, winter and
summer. His family allowed him to open the window before going to bed,
but closed it as soon as he was asleep. Lawrence Veiller, our greatest
expert on tenement conditions, says: "To bathe in a tenement where a
family of six occupy three rooms often involves the sacrifice of
privacy and decency, which are quite as important to social betterment
as cleanliness."

To live unhygienically where others live hygienically is quite as
difficult. Witness the speedy improvement of dissipated men when
boarding with country friends who eat rationally and retire early. It
must have been knowledge of this fact that prompted the tramways of
Belfast to post conspicuous notices: "Spitting is a vile and filthy
habit, and those who practice it subject themselves to the disgust and
loathing of their fellow-passengers." It is almost impossible to have
indigestion, blues, and headache when one is camping, particularly
where action and enjoyment fill the day. O