“No, I apologize, Bettykin,” returned the doctor. “You’re the only two sensible people in the room.” Julia promptly rose, lifted the stand with her cards on it, carried it to the center of the library, and planted it so that the central light fell across it from a little behind her. “One recruit to the side of common sense,” observed the physician. “Next!” “What’s wrong with me?” demanded Mr. Clyde, looking up. “Newspaper print?” “Newspaper print is an unavoidable evil, and by no means the worst example of Gutenberg’s art. No; the trouble with you is that your neck is so scrunched down into a tight collar as to shut off a proper blood supply from your head. Don’t your eyes feel bungy?” “A little. What am I going to do? I can’t sit around after dinner with no collar on.” “Sit up straight, then; stick your neck up out of your collar and give it play. Emulate the attentive turtle! And you, Bobs, stop imitating an anchovy. Uncurl! _Uncurl!!_” With a sigh, Robin straightened himself out. “I was so comfortable,” he complained. “No, you weren’t. You were only absorbed. The veins on your temples are fairly bulging. You might as well try to read standing on your head. Get a straight-backed chair, and you’re all right. I’m glad to see that you follow Grandma Sharpless’s good example in reading by a student-lamp.” “That’s my own lamp,” said Mrs. Sharpless. “Seventy years has at least taught me how to read.” “How, but not what,” answered the Health Master. “That’s a bad book you’re reading.” Grandma Sharpless achieved the proud athletic feat of bounding from her chair without the perceptible movement of a muscle. “Young man!” she exclaimed in a shaking voice, “do you know what book that is?” “I don’t care what book—” “It is the Bible.” “Is it? Well, Heaven inspired the writer, but not the printer. Text such as that ought to be prohibited by law. Isn’t there a passage in that Bible, ‘Having eyes, ye see not’?” “Yes, there is,” snapped Mrs. Sharpless. “And my eyes have been seeing and seeing straight for a good many more years than yours.” “The more credit to them and the less to you, if you’ve maltreated them with such sight-murdering print as that. Haven’t you another Bible?” Grandma Sharpless sat down again. “I have another,” she said, “with large print; but it’s so heavy.” “Prescription: one reading-stand. Now, Mrs. Clyde.” The mother of the family looked up from her magazine with a smile. “You can’t say that I haven’t large print or a good light,” she said. “The print is good, but the paper bad,” said the Health Master. “Bad, that is, as you are holding it under a full, unqualified electric light. In reading from glazed paper, which reflects like a mirror, you should use a very modified light. In fact, I blame myself from not having had all the electric globes frosted long since. Now, I’ve kept the worst offender for the last.”