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13 American Sunday Monthly Magazine Section Keeplfotir^oJyoua N O man ever successfully made love when he had a cold in the head. Also, no man ever devised a great business scheme when he had asthma. Adenoids, enlarged tonsils, defective hearing, come from bad sanitary conditions that weaken the individual, until the germs of disease get him in their despotic clutch. Keep your bods- on a war-footing. Appendicitis follows faulty circulation, imperfect elimination, impaction. Then comes congestion, inflammation, and a con dition is ripe where the surgeon’s knife is t necessity. No physician of skill will dispute these simple propositions. The air is the life. We can go without eating forty days. We can go without drinking water for six days. But we can not go without breathing for four minutes. We eat our peck of dirt, all right, and then go on and eat another; but we can not breathe a peck of dirt with out stopping up lung-cells; and then follows a condition where the blood is imperfectly oxygenated. Faulty elimination results. The germs of tuberculosis jump the claim, and poison the well-springs of life. It is only within recent times that we have recognized the necessity of fresh air. Sleeping out of doors in open-air sleeping- porches will add twenty per cent, of effi ciency to the life of the individual. How slow we have been to recognize the value of fresh air is shown by the following bit of history: In the year Eighteen Hun dred Eighty-five, a great and learned man, an educator of international repute, con cluded that the applause of great audiences, by clapping of hands, was rude, coarse and inharmonious. Instead, he devised some thing which he proudly called “The Chau tauqua Salute.” This consisted in, at a given signal, every one in the audience taking out his handkerchief and waving it. This flutter of five thousand handker chiefs in an auditorium produced a won derful spectacular effect. Hut the great and good man who devised the Chautauqua Salute never comprehended for a moment that this violent agitation of handkerchiefs scattered and disseminated through the air untold millions of disease-germs. The handkerchief, as a toilet requisite, is something that is not really transferable, any more than is a toothbrush. It is a pri vate belonging, and, for the most part, we use it with becoming reluctance in public. Its purpose is hygienic and proper; but handkerchiefs, fifteen or twenty years ago, were used until they took on, what the artists call, "tone." The handkerchief Anything they did not care to ea. was flung on the floor Today you can spot a bumpkin by his habit of flourishing his handkerchief before using it was the natural receptacle of the unmen tionable. So behold, our great and good educator, in the kindness of his heart, and out of a love of harmony, advocating as beautiful the flutter of this toilet .adjunct as a mark of esteem and approval! Juliet, on 3 bal cony, fluttering her handkerchief to a distant Romeo, is all right. But thousands of handkerchiefs, in a confined space, Hop ping and fluttering, mean disease on the high speed, with brake broken and the chauffeur drunk. The Chautauqua Salute existed twenty years before a scientist came forward with his protest. He was listened to at first with scorn. Now the entire world sees the force of his argument, and realizes the wrongness as well as the silliness and the tragic part of scattering filth and disease. Today you can spot a bumpkin by his habit of flourishing his handkerchief before using it. In the time of Queen Elizabeth, carpets were not in vogue. The halls and rooms of the great castles were covered with rushes. Spitting in the rushes, or anywhere, was quite in order. At the table, anything that they did not care to eat was flung on the floor. Plates came in later: “queensware,” they called them—made for the queen! The old meth ods and manners of eating were to seize your food with your hands. You grabbed the thing and ate as much as you wanted, and threw the rest to the dogs, literally. For the dogs were always there in the castles, and the beggars, too, waiting for the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table. Even yet, in the Orient, you will find the beggars and the dogs waiting with patience for their share of your meal. You pay for your portion of bread and meat; and what you do not eat belongs to the bow wows. The bacteria of the beggar and the effluvia of the dog, the decaying particles of food on the floor, and the smell of cooking in the air—all these things meant disease. When enough of the unhealthy conditions became focused, there was a plague. Thus, in the year Sixteen Hundred Eighty, one- third of the entire city of London died. So many people died that funeral-services were impossible. The death-carts went through the streets, and the drivers called aloud: “Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!” It w r as only a great fire which burned the better part of the city that stayed the ravages of the plague. Guinevere s Lover (Continued from preceding page) He pulled himself together sternly and went on more rapidly now: “ I had just come from America, Guine vere,—and the South—and I knew and understood the feeling they have about such things there—and the writer of the letter had signed his name, it was no anonymous correspondent—it was a name which I' knew, and which w r as well-known and hon ored in his town. I have always had this feeling myself about niggers and a frightful physical repulsion as well. And to think that one whose great-grandmother was a full black—was now' my wife and if the marriage went on, in a year or so might be the mother of my son! It drove me per fectly mad, Guinevere. I reeled with the sickening irony of it all. Anti then I made up my mind—I w'ould be ruthless for no law or no other reason would I ever make this woman my wife in anything but name. It would not be justice to leave her now practically at the Church door and create a great scandal, but I would tell her the whole truth the moment we were alone and leave it to her to settle what she would do. I naturally was under every obligation to be kind and good to her since it was not her fault, but with her father I would have a reckoning.” I started to my feet—the story was so terrible, so ghastly in its hideous details, I felt I must move or I should cry aloud. Hugh looked at me with wild sad eyes and then he said pitifully: “Ah, Guinevere, I have filled you with contempt and loathing and no wonder, but (Continued on next page) T HE highest grade smoking tobacco made—80 Cents a pound. The 80 Cent TOBACCO in the Handy 5* TIN But packed in a tin just HALF the ordin ary size. Exactly enough to keep FRESH and PERFECT until you have smoked it ALL. The most delightful FRAGRANCE, the FINEST SMOKE, the HANDIEST TIN In the whole history of tobacco. 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