“Well, you quit it,” advised the doctor, “if you want to make the ball team. It will put you off your game worse than tea or coffee. Tell the athletic instructor I said so, will you?” “Sure!” said the boy. “I didn’t know there was any harm in it.” As Manny walked away, Dr. Strong turned to Mr. Clyde. “I found out about Manny by accident. No wonder the boy is nervous. He’s been drinking that stuff like water, with no thought of what’s in it.” “What _is_ in it?” said Mrs. Clyde. “Caffeine, generally. The most widely used of the lot is a mixture of fruit syrups doctored up with that drug. There’s as much nerve-excitation in a glass of it—yes, and more—than in a cup of strong coffee. What would you think of a fourteen-year-old boy who drank five cups of strong coffee every day?” “I’d think his parents were fools,” declared Grandma Sharpless bluntly. “Or his physician,” suggested Dr. Strong. “I’ve seen cases of people drinking twenty to twenty-five glasses of that ‘harmless’ stuff every day. Of course, they were on the road to nervous smash-up. But the craving for it was established and they hadn’t the nerve to stop.” “The soda-fountain as a public peril,” said Mr. Clyde, with a smile. “There’s more in that than can be smiled away,” retorted the doctor vigorously. “What between nerve-foods that are simply disguised ‘bracers,’ and dangerous, heart-depressing dopes, like bromo-seltzer, the soda-fountain does its share of damage in the community.” “What about soda-water; that is innocent, isn’t it?” asked Mrs. Clyde. “Yes. If the syrups are pure, soda-water is a good thing in moderation. So are the mineral waters. But there is this to be said about soda-water and candy, particularly the latter—” “I’ve always said,” broke in Grandma Sharpless, “that candy-eating would ruin any digestion.”, “Then you’ve always been wrong, ma’am,” said Dr. Strong. “Candy, well and honestly made, is excellent food at the proper time. The trouble is, both with candy and with the heavy, rich soda-waters, that people are continually filling up with them between meals. Now the stomach is a machine with a great amount of work to do, and is entitled to some consideration. Clyde, what would happen to the machines in your factory, if you didn’t give them proper intervals of rest?” “They’d be very short-lived,” said Mr. Clyde. “There’s a curious thing about machinery which everybody knows but nobody understands: running a machine twenty-four hours a day for one week gives it harder wear than running it twelve hours a day for a month. It needs a regular rest.” “So with the machinery of digestion,” said the doctor. “The stomach and intestines have their hard work after meals. How are they to rest up, if an odd lot of candy or a slab of rich ice-cream soda come sliding down between whiles to be attended to? Eat your candy at the end of a meal, if you want it. It’s a good desert. But whatever you eat, give your digestion a fair chance.”