MOTHER: He cer´tain-ly does. Sometimes he gives the one who sleeps in such rooms quite a scolding. After he has been out in the fresh air, and comes back into the room, I im-ag´ine I hear him talking something like this: “Don’t you know it is a _dreadful_ thing for you to breathe air like this? How would you like to drink the water your face or your clothes had been washed in? But you have done worse than that: you have kept washing your blood in the same air, over and over again, all night. It is no wonder that you have a headache and feel all tired out this morning. Now open the windows, and give this room a good airing, and if you sleep here another night, see that there are places where the good air can come in and the bad air go out, and I promise you I will not talk like this again.” PERCY: If the master of the house knew no better than that, he ought to have a lecture. MOTHER: I think so, too. When air costs nothing, and comes whistling around every corner, begging to come in, we should never go without a good supply. There is one more way in which Smell is useful to us. ELMER: How is that? MOTHER: It gives us pleasure. When God made us, He desired that we should be happy; so He gave us eyes to see the beautiful things He has made, ears to hear the music of the birds, taste to enjoy the fine flavors He placed in our foods, and smell to breathe in the fragrance of the violet and the rose. We ought to be very thankful for all these senses, which make us happy. A GENTLE NURSE MOTHER: You remember I told you that the body-house is all the time wearing out. Every time we think, move, play, or work, some part becomes worn, and must be mended. Blood, the care-taker, passes swiftly around every part, first up, then down; and every trip she makes, the bones take something to mend them; the flesh takes its part; the skin must have a share; the hair and finger-nails take something to make them grow; and so, while we study, work, or play, the mending goes on, and we hardly stop to think that it is done at all. HELEN: This seems to me one of the most wonderful things about the body. MOTHER: But there is another wonderful thing of which we have not yet spoken. When we are tired with the work of the day, and the sun goes down in the west, a gentle nurse steps in and says to the master of the body-house: “Please give me the care of your house awhile. I will rest you, and while I have you in charge Blood can do her work better, and in a few hours you will feel as good as new.” AMY: And does the master do as she says?