globe, at least in part. Our baby must have no antipathies, but every good
thing given by Nature shall at least be tolerated. "I never eat this," or
"I never eat that," is a formula that no educated person has a right to
use save when some food actually hurtful or to which he has a natural
repulsion is presented to him. Certain articles of diet are often
strangely and unaccountably harmful to some. Oysters are an almost deadly
poison to certain constitutions; milk to others. Cheese has produced the
same effect, and even strawberries; yet all these are luxuries to the
ordinary stomach.

Usually the thing to guard against most carefully is gluttony, so far as
boys are concerned. With girls the tendency often is to eat far too
little. A false delicacy, a feeling that paleness and fragility are
beautiful and feminine, inclines the young girl often to eat less than she
desires; and the stomach accustoms itself to the insufficient supply, till
the reception of a reasonable meal is an impossibility. Or if they eat
improper food (hot breads and much fat and sweets), the same result
follows. Digestion, or rather assimilation, is impossible; and pasty face
and lusterless eyes become the rule. A greedy woman is the exception; and
yet all schoolgirls know the temptation to over-eating produced by a box
of goodies from home, or the stronger temptation, after a school-term has
ended, to ravage all cake-boxes and preserve-jars. Then comes the pill or
powder, and the habit of going to them for a relief which if no excess had
been committed, would have been unnecessary. Patent medicines are the
natural sequence of unwholesome food, and both are outrages on
common-sense.

We will take it for granted, then, that our baby has come to boyhood and
youth in blissful ignorance of their names or natures. But as we are not
in the least certain what personal tastes he may have developed, or what