nale of the seemingly slight
indisposition.

My readers may wonder why I dwell upon a subject that baffles even the
most eminent physicians in the country. It is because I feel that each
of us women has in herself the only check to the nervousness which we
all dread. We, as Americans, cannot afford to trifle with our
unfortunate inheritance, but must use every means at our command to
subjugate the evil instead of being subjugated by it. Too many women,
especially among the lower classes, think it "pretty" to be nervous.
The country practitioner will tell you of the precious hours he loses
every week in hearkening to the recital of personal discomforts as
poured into his professional ears by farmers' wives. And the
beginning, middle, and end of all their plaints is "my nerves."
Anything, from a sprained ankle to consumption, is attributed to or
augmented by these necessary adjuncts to the human anatomy.

Not long ago I was talking to the ignorant mother of a jaundiced,
colicky child of two years of age.

"What does she eat?" I asked.

"Well, she takes fancies, and her latest notion is that she won't eat
nothin' but ginger-nuts and bananas. So she mostly lives on them.
Sometimes she suffers awful."

"From indigestion?"

"Oh, no!" patronizingly. "She inherits all my nervous weakness. Her
nerves get the upper hand of her, and she turns pale and shivers all
over, and then she looks as if she would go into the spasms."

"But," I suggested, "don't you think that is caused by acute
indigestion?"

"No, ma'am. You see I know what it is, havin' had it so bad myself.
The nerves of her stomach all draw up, and cause the shakin' and
tremblin'."

Suggestions as to the modification of the little one's diet were
useless. Indigestion was unromantic (in the mother's judgment), and
"nerves" were highly aristocratic and refined.

I am happy to note that the girl of the rising generation is learning
that to succumb to weakness is not a sign of ladyhood. She does not
jump on a chair at sight of a mouse, scream when she meets a cow in a
country road, or cover her face and shudder at mention of a snake. She
is proud of being afraid of nothing, of having a good appetite, and of
the ability to sleep as soundly as a tired and healthy child.

It is not then to her, but to ourselves, that we mothers have need to
look. We are too often the ones who give way to hysterical tears or to
sharp words, or perhaps to unjust criticism, all of w