“And I’ve noticed that this house breathes deep at night, through plenty of open windows. So I can save my own breath on that topic. Just now I want to talk milk.” “All our milk comes from my farm,” said the head of the family. “Cows are my hobby. You ought to see the place, Strong; it’s only ten miles out.” “I have seen the place.” “What do you think of it?” “I think you’d better get your milk somewhere else for a while.” “Why, Dr. Strong!” protested Mrs. Clyde. “There isn’t a woman among my friends who doesn’t envy me our cream. And the milk keeps sweet—oh, for days, doesn’t it, Katie?” “Yes’m,” replied the cook. “Three days, or even four, in the ice-box.” “Doesn’t that show it’s pure?” asked Mrs. Clyde triumphantly. Dr. Strong shook his head. “Hardly proof,” he said. “Really clean milk will keep much longer. I have drunk milk from the Rochester municipal supply that was thirteen days old, and as sweet as possible. And that was in a hot August.” “Thirteen days old! I’d be ashamed to tell it!” declared Grandma Sharpless, with so much asperity that there was a general laugh, in which the doctor joined. “I shouldn’t care to try it with your milk. It is rich, but it isn’t by any means pure. Eternal vigilance is the price of good milk. I don’t suppose you inspect your farm once a month, do you, Mr. Clyde?” “No; I leave that to the farmer. He’s an intelligent fellow. What’s wrong?” “Scientifically speaking, from 300,000 to 500,000 bacteria per cubic centimeter.” “Do we drink all those things when we have a glass of milk, Dr. Strong?” inquired “Manny” Clyde, the oldest boy. “Four or five times that many for every teaspoonful,” said the doctor. “But it isn’t as bad as it sounds, Manny. One hundred thousand is considered a fairly safe allowance, though _very_ good milk—the kind I drank when it was thirteen days old—may contain only two or three thousand. When the count runs up to half a million or so, it shows that some kind of impurity is getting in. The bacteria in your milk may not be disease germs at all; they may all be quite harmless varieties. But sooner or later, if dirt gets into milk, dangerous germs will get in with it. The high count is a good danger signal.” “If Bliss, the farmer, has been allowing dirt to get into the milk, he’ll find himself out of a place,” said Mr. Clyde decisively. “Don’t be too hard on him,” advised the doctor. “His principal fault is that he’s getting the milk dirty trying to keep it clean. He is washing his cans with water from an open well near the barnyard. The water in the well is badly contaminated from surface drainage. That would account for the high number of bacteria; that and careless milking.” “And on that account you advise me to give up the milk?” asked Mr. Clyde.