At another time when Dorian had a cold, and consequently, a loss of
appetite, his mother urged him to eat more, saying that he must have
strength to throw off his cold.

"What is a cold?" he smilingly asked.

"Why, a cold is--a cold, of course, you silly boy."

"What does it do to the activities of the body?"

"I'm not a doctor; how can I tell."

"All mothers are doctors and nurses; they do a lot of good, and some
things that are not so good. For instance, why should I eat more when I
have a cold?" She did not reply, and so he went on: "The body is very
much like a stove or a furnace; it is burning material all the time.
Sometimes the clinkers accumulate and stop the draft, both in the human
as well as the iron stove. When that happens, the sensible thing to do
is not to throw in more fuel but to clean out the clinkers first."

"Where did you get all that wisdom, Dorian?"

"I got it from my text book on hygiene, and I think it's true because it
seems so reasonable."

"Well, last night's talk led me to believe that you would become a
philosopher; now, the trend is more toward the doctor; tomorrow I'll
think you are studying law."