pleased. The germ theory was unfathomed. Suitable food for an
invalid was anything the invalid could afford to buy. Fresh air,
and more especially fresh night air, was regarded as dangerous,
and people hermetically sealed themselves in before retiring. Not
daily as at present was the world gladdened by the tidings that
science had unearthed some new and particularly unpleasant disease.
It never occurred to a mother that she should sterilize the slipper
before spanking her offspring. Babies were not reared antiseptically,
but just so. Nobody was aware of microbes.

In short, our sires and our grandsires abode in the midst of perils.
They were surrounded on all sides by things that are immediately
fatal to the human system. Not a single one of them had a right
to pass his second birthday. In the light of what we know, we
realize that by now this world should be but a barren waste dotted
at frequent intervals with large graveyards and populated only by
a few dispossessed and hungry bacteria, hanging over the cemetery
fence singing: Driven From Home!

In the conditions generally prevalent up to twenty-five years ago,
most of us never had any license, really, to be born at all. Yet
look how many of us are now here. In this age of research I
hesitate to attempt to account for it, except on the entirely
unscientific theory that what you don't know doesn't hurt you.
Doubtless a physician could give you a better explanation, but
his would cost you more than mine has.

But we digress. Let us get back to our main subject, which is
myself. I shall never forget my first real meal in that hospital.
There was quite a good deal of talk about it beforehand. My nurse