leg to stand on. Still, it did the business. And I maintain that
results are what we are looking for. The end justifies the means. I
didn't figure out a diet. I had a dozen of them at home that had cost me
all the way from two dollars to two hundred and fifty dollars each. I
didn't buy a system of exercise. I read no books and consulted no
doctors. What I did was this: I cut down the amount of food I ate sixty
per cent and I cut out alcohol altogether! I carried out my argument to
its logical conclusion so far as it concerned myself. I didn't give a
hoot whether it would help or hurt or concern any other person in the
world. It was my body I was experimenting on, and I did what I
dad-blamed pleased and asked no advice--nor took any.

Instead of a hot-bread--I have the greatest hot-bread artist in the world
at my house, bar none!--waffle, sausage, kidney-stew, lamb-chop,
fried-egg and so forth sort of breakfast, I cut that meal down to some
fruit, a couple of pieces of dry, hard toast, two boiled eggs and coffee.
I cut out the luncheon altogether. No more luncheon for me! I cut down
my dinners to about forty per cent of what I had been eating. I
diminished the quantity, but not the variety. I ate everything that came
along, but I didn't eat so much or half so much. Instead of two slices
of roast beef, for example, I ate only one small slice. Instead of two
baked or browned potatoes, I ate only half of one. Instead of three or
four slices of bread, I ate only one. I didn't deprive myself of a
single thing I liked, but I cut the quantity away down. And I quit
drinking alcohol absolutely.

What happened? This is what happened: Eating food is just as much a
habit as breathing or any other physical function. I had got myself into
the habit of eating large quantities of food. Also, I had accustomed my
system to certain amounts of alcohol. I was organized on that