The Common Cold.

I have heard people coughing in shops, in trams, in theatres. Brrr! What would winter not be without its colds! One of the greatest benefactors of mankind will be he who frees our winter season of its worst encumbrance and leaves us free to enjoy the sparkling zest of frosty nights and mornings, the sense of well-being which rises in us as we breast a buffeting wind, the cool keenness of silver arrows of rain. Till that happy day, when King “Cold” is driven from his throne and with him the myriad germs, his ministers, we will enjoy our winters as of old.

Half the battle is to be suitably clad. Thank goodness (and doctors!) that we have departed from the musty, fusty Victorian idea of coddling ourselves. True, a few hardy people seem to be going to the opposite extreme and to be courting pneumonia in every southerly gale. The wiser ones do not boast of going through the winter in locknit, but sensibly invest in lightweight Shetland wool undies which are as dainty and slim-fitting as silk. Also with careful laundering they wear marvellously.