These remarks of course apply principally to healthy children and people. The delicate of all ages must obey their medical advisers, and not risk a wet walk, however well secured against it, if they have been forbidden to go out.
With all people, food is at the same time one of the principal aids in combating colds and coughs. More heat-giving foods are required in winter, to keep up sufficient warmth, and many people suffer simply because they do not look upon the matter in this light. Parents will tell you that their boys and girls will not eat fat meat or fat bacon, or take salad dressed with oil, or take their porridge. Variety might perhaps tempt them. They might be induced to eat bread crisply fried in dripping either for breakfast or supper; or they might have gruel or arrowroot just before going to bed, which would both warm and sustain them; or, supposing they turn from all with dislike, a very good investment would be to buy two or three dozen cheap boxes of chocolate, and then dole out the boxes one by one, for the children to take to school or eat with their lunch. Chocolate is both nutritious and heat-giving, and nearly every child likes it. Care, however, should be taken that pure chocolate is eaten. Thick soups, such as pea, lentil, or potato soup, are very wholesome, and contain plenty of heat-giving materials, whilst they are perhaps cheaper than chocolate. Many children, indeed, might be saved from the doctor’s hands, if their tastes were more consulted as to food, and they were given heat-giving foods, which they liked, and would eat, instead of suet puddings or fats, which they disliked.
They say thou art not beautiful. To _me_ thou art most fair! And shrined within my faithful heart, Thine image dear I wear. In every glance, in every smile, I see a nameless grace; For love of mine, an angel’s soul Shines through thy mortal face!
Thy hand is rough, and brown with toil, Yet soft as summer rain; With light and soothing touch it falls Upon the brow of pain: The sufferer feels its healing power Rob death of half its sting, And deems that little toil-stained hand White as an angel’s wing.
And, sweetheart mine, no wildering lights Flash from thy modest eyes; Too timid is their downcast glance, To startle or surprise; Yet would I have them shining near, To watch me when I pray, To keep my heart from worldly thoughts, Sweet eyes of gentle gray.