al enthusiasm that marked the beginning of all my undertakings. Before
I had made scarcely any progress I decided that fencing would be of
greater value to me, it being an exercise requiring precision of
movements, thus making it of much value in the development of brain as
well as of muscle. Just about the time my interest in fencing was keyed up
to the highest pitch, the friend with whom I was practicing accidentally
prodded me a little on the shoulder. This scared me into abandoning the
exercise as it seemed fraught with danger.

Having read that deep and systematic breathing was considered by many as
being the royal road to health for all whose stock of vitality is below
par, I determined to give it a thorough trial. Deep-breathing was a
pleasant exercise and easy to take; I kept it up for some time--perhaps
ten days. Perhaps I might have continued it longer had I not about that
time accepted the invitation of a friend to accompany him on an automobile
tour which required several days. When I returned I was so much improved
in health and spirits that I was looking at life from a new angle. I had
forgotten all about the needs of exercise and deep breathing.

About this time there was a vacancy in our city schools, occasioned by the
death of a popular teacher, and the School Board reposed sufficient
confidence in me to ask me to take the place. I finished out the term and
gave such satisfaction to pupils and patrons that the Board asked me to
accept the position for the ensuing year at an increased salary. But I
declined, on the ground that my health would not permit it. I was slipping
back into my old ways! New symptoms were appearing, but the old ones, like
old friends, seemed the firmest, and all made their return at varying
intervals.

Among other things from which I now suffered were insomnia, melancholia,
heart irregularity, and a train of mental symptoms and feelings which
common words could not begin to describe. It would have required an
assortment of the very strongest adjectives and adverbs to have told any
one how I felt. For the first time, my stomach was now giving me a little
trouble and my appetite was off. I went to see a stomach specialist who
looked me over and gravely informed me that I had _psychasthenia
anorexia_. This was a new one on me. For all I knew about the term, it
may have been obsolete swearing. I did not realize then that a little
medical learning to a layman is a dangerous thing.