he thus bestir himself, instead of sinking into the easy chair. He may,
however, accept the suggestion that simply changing the shoes and stockings
is extremely restful, when reminded that if he had worn kid gloves all day
he would be relieved to free his hands from the incubus, and, if gloves
must still be worn, to put on a cool pair.

It is a further aid to physical, and indirectly to mental, comfort, if one
can learn to wear low shoes and the thinnest of underwear the year
round; the former offer a panacea for fidgets; the latter lessens the
perspiration, which increases the susceptibility to drafts, and to even
moderate lowering of temperature. The prevailing belief that this procedure
is dangerous is disproved by the experience of the many who have given it a
thorough trial. The insistent belief of the neurotic that he cannot acquire
this habit is touched upon in the chapter on Worry and Obsession. If he
thinks he is "taking cold," let him throw back his shoulders and take a few
deep breaths, or if convenient, a few exercises, instead of doubling the
weight of his underwear, and in the long run he will find that he has not
only increased his comfort, but has lessened, rather than increased, the
number of his colds.

Much of the worry of the home is retrospective. "If I had only made
Mary wear her rubbers,"--"If we had only invested in Calumet & Hecla at
25,"--"If we had only sent John to college," represent a fruitful source of
family discomfort. The morbid rhyme is familiar to all:

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest these, 'It might have been.'"

I should be glad to learn of any advantage accruing from the indulgence of
this attitude toward the bygone. A happier and more sensible habit of mind