ting. She sees the bad goblins start off on their mischievous journey; so she calls her eight little elfmen. The little elfmen have odd names too;

Fresh-Air, Sunlight, Bed-Time, Clean-Teeth, Morning-Bath, Appetite, Milk and Eggs, the dearest, fattest twin elfmen.

'Come, little Elfmen!" cries Mother Nature, "the goblins have gone to the Dirty House to plant the wicked T. B. Seed in the poor Little Pots that live there. Quick! Be after them. Rout the little goblins! Drive them away!. And fill the Little Pots with healthy soil so that the wicked T. B. Seed cannot grow in the Little Pots. Away!"

Off go the little elfmen to the Dirty House to save the Little Pots.

But already the goblins have reached the Dirty House; down the chimney they come, bringing soot and dust with them. They dance about, screaming:

"The room is full of bad air,

Bad air, bad air, BAD AIR!"

They peep at the Little Pots, who are asleep on an old dirty bed.

"Oh, what dirty faces and hands!" cry the goblins.

"Oh, what dirty little feet and legs!" cry the goblins. "We will plant the T. B. Seed in these dirty Little Pots."

"Wait, Goblins!" cries Dirt. "Remember what old Giant Disease told us! We must fill the Little Pots with unhealthy soil before we plant the T. B. Seed, or else the seed won't grow."

"Ha, Ha! Ho, Ho!" cry the goblins. "We will make the Little Pots do as we say! that will fill them with unhealthy soil quick enough."

They dance about, crying out to the Little Pots:

Dirt: "I am good for you. Don't mind ME.' No-Toothbrush: "Don't trouble to brush your teeth. That's only silly."

Won't-Bathe: "What's the use of bathing? You will only get dirty again."

Not-Sleepy: "Sit up late at night. That won't hurt you."

Not-Hungry: "Don't eat what's good for you. Eat what you like."

Stay-in-Doors: "Don't open the window. What's the use of that?"

Tea and Coffee: "Drink Us, Drink Us!" "Hurrah!" cry the goblins. "If they mind what we say that will fill the Little Pots with unhealthy soil. Hurrah!"

But here come the little elfmen. They climb into the room through a broken window-pane. The good little elfmen! They fall upon the wicked goblins and drive them away; up the chimney, through the keyhole, screaming and shrieking.

The Little Pots begin to stir. One Little Pot rubs her eyes (for the Pots are really chlildren, you know). Her name is Mary. She wakes up with a start. When she sees the little elfmen, she calls to her brother and sister. They too wake up and stare at the elfmen.

"What are you doing here?" cries Mary. "Yes. What are you doing here?" says her small brother, Jack.

"What funny little men!" says little Alice. "We are elfmen,' says Fresh-Air, stepping forward boldly. "We belong to Mother Nature, and she sends us to take care of such Little Pots as you, and to see that the wicked T. B. Seed the goblins plant does not grow in you."

"Why do you call us pots?" cries Jack.

"Because you are pots," replies the elfman. "At least you are pots to Mother Nature, and to the old Giant Disease, and to the elfmen, and to the goblins."

"The goblins!" cries Mary. "I dreamed just now of the goblins."

"So did I," says Jack.

"So did I," says Alice.

"They have been here," says the elfman, "They always come to the Dirty House. It is so easy to plant the T. B. Seed in the Little Pots that live in the Dirty House."

"Oh, do you think they have planted the T. B. Seed in us?" cries Mary.

"And will it grow?" cries Jack.

44

'Oh, dear!" cries Alice.

They're white, white, WHITE." Morning-Bath: "Bathe every day.' Appetite: "Eat only what is good for you." Milk and Eggs: 'Drink Us! Eat Us!" "Why, that's just like being a Health Crusader at school," cries Jack!

"It's all the same thing," says the elfman. "It's minding Mother Nature. Do you promise?"

"We promise," cry the Little Pots. "We cross our hearts. We will do everything Mother Nature wants us to."

They fling open the window and let in the fresh air and sunlight.

"We promise to take a morning bath, and to brush our teeth three times a day," says Mary. "And to eat plenty of milk and eggs," says Jack.

46

'And to go to bed at dark,” says Alice.

'And this shall be Clean House, and never again Dirty House," cry all the Little Pots.

"Fine!" cry the elfmen. "You are good Little Pots. But we must be off to save all the other Little Pots from the goblins. Goodbye. Goodbye." And away they go out the window, and out of sight.

"Dear me!" says Alice. “I thought we were children. It feels queer being a pot."

"Pooh!" cries Jack. "Don't be silly. We are not really Little Pots. We are only LIKE little pots.'

"Oh," cries Mary, "I wish we were Mother Nature's little elfmen. I wish we could tell all

the children (I mean Pots) how to fill themselves with healthy soil so the goblins could not plant the wicked T. B. Seed in them."

"We can't be elfmen," says Jack, "but I know something just as good we can be." "What?" cry Mary and Alice. "Modern Crusaders," says Jack. children at school are going to be Crusaders and sell Red Cross Christmas Seals."

"All the

"Yes, yes!" cries Mary. "Our teacher told us about it too. The money from the sale of the seals will be used to keep the T. B. Seed from being planted in people. Why, we will be fighting the goblins just like the elfmen do."

"I'd rather be a 'Crusader' than an elfman," declares Jack. "Let's be Health Crusaders and kill the old Giant Disease and burn up his old bag o' seed."

Once upon a time there lived a happy and prosperous people in a beautiful and productive country. These people were so industrious and inventive that they were able to bring about great changes in almost every line of commerce and trade.

Their boats sailed the seas with loads of products for other countries and their favor was courted by the entire world. Wonderful buildings dotted the land and everywhere were seen the results of the minds and hands of this people of this favored land.

But over this fair country there hung a great shadow; somewhere, no one knew just where, there lived a terrible giant who made so much trouble and sorrow that the inhabitants lived in dread of him and his awful work. For he was a foe to be both feared and dreaded; he was so treacherous and tricky, so hard to find and so easy to yield to, that, once his coming was announced, fear and suffering were in evidence everywhere. This terrible giant would come to the most beautiful homes; he would not stop at the door, but without warning would slip into the homes, and when he came, then sorrow and dread would descend upon that home. For this enemy of happiness would softly slip into the nursery or the parlor and put his great white hand upon some loved one and slip away again, and, oh, what grief was the portion of that family! For when the giant "marked a person,' then those who loved that one knew that all was over, that some day, soon or late, the giant would come back and claim that loved one for his own and take her away with him forever. The giant was so greedy that he seemed to steal the best and fairest in the household. Sometimes he would take a tiny child, even a baby in the cradle; sometimes he would call a father from his children, or a fond mother from the clinging arms of her babies. He might get a grandmother or grandfather, but most and worst of all, he seemed to think that the young and beautiful, fair young girls and strong young men, made the best victims, and they were forced to leave their ambition and life-work and go with him. And what was the hardest to bear, no one knew where they went, and no one who answered the call of the terrible giant ever came back to tell what place was his destination. No one knew where he lived; he seemed to come so softly, so quietly,

and no one ever saw him, and it was only when some bright young promising man or woman left to join his ranks that the people could catch a glimpse of his talons. And he seemed to like to visit one home more than once. He would paint a bright red spot upon the plump cheek and a white mark upon the forehead. He would take away the strength and flesh, the health and beauty, and doom that young spirit to weeks and months of lingering illness, and, worst of all, he would whisper to them that all this suffering was only trivial and that they would soon be able to return to their daily occupations. But this was not true, and ere long he would again make a visit to that home and some lovely morning the heart-broken parents would wake to find that during the night the enemy had slipped into the home and stolen away their loved one. And perhaps before their sore hearts had time to heal, the giant would make another visit and steal away another dear one.

So time went on and those who knew about such things found that more people were being stolen by the giant than were lost at sea, or in war, and that the very best and brightest were being taken to his haunts, never to return.

So the wise people of the land decided to make a great fight against this foe of their homes and happiness. They decided that they must first find out where he lived and what was the reason that he made such raids upon the country. So those who were brave and strong were appointed to go and find out the home of the giant. So they set out, well knowing that for some of them death was waiting and that once the giant knew of their coming he would leave no means untried for their defeat.

So these brave men and women left their homes and set out to find the terrible giant. The women were those who had lost their loved ones many times, and the men were the flower of the country.

Day after day, week after week, they sought the giant, but when he seemed nearest he was farthest off. Sometimes he came so near that he was able with his great claws to snatch at the brave seekers after knowledge; and, sad to relate, sometimes he actually got some of them to go with him to that place which no one had

ever seen.

But after years of hard work, heart-breaking

disappointment and sorrow, the home of the giant was found. And where do you think it was? Can some one guess? It was found to be in a dark and noisome place with no bright sunshine or flowers, no singing birds or pretty brooks, and with dirty streets and dark streams where the sun never shone.

Famine was there, too, and starvation lurked everywhere. The discoverers were so stunned by their discovery that at first they did not know what to do. And they did not reach this state of affairs without great privation and much sacrifice. More than one of them died before the goal was reached, and not a few of them fell a victim to the cruel giant before he was finally tracked to his lair.

And when at last he was found, the fight had only begun. First it was necessary to get at the home of the giant and destroy it or make it so unhealthy for him that he could not live there. Then the people had to be educated as to how to fight the giant and how to keep him from entering their homes and marking their loved ones for his own. So a great campaign against the cruel giant was started. The public schools were implored to teach the children the principles of hygiene and sanitation. Much literature was printed to show the people how to live and how to bring up their children to fight the giant. Some wealthy people spent huge sums of money on fighting the giant and almost everybody began to feel that there was hope at last.

For, as soon as the giant's home was discovered, people knew how to fight him; they knew that he did not like sunshine and cleanliness, and so they determined to keep both their cities and homes so clean and bright that the giant would have no place to lodge when he came through that part of the country. They began to have sunshiny places for the sick folks to stay in, and when the giant did slip into homes which were not so clean, then those people who knew how to live showed the poor people how to take care of the sick ones, and how to keep the giant from coming the second time, even if he did mark the victim for his own.

And after a while people grew so anxious to keep the giant from the land that every year there was set apart a day in which the ministers in the pulpits and the people all over the land thought and talked and prayed about how best to fight the cruel giant. And by and by he began to be afraid of the people, not because they were so much stronger than they used to be, but because they knew better how to live and how to fight the giant.

And now we begin to see the progress of the work which has been going on for years. The people begin to know how to care for their homes, their cities, and how to keep the giant from getting a hold on those who do not know how to live. I wonder if any one can tell us the name of this awful giant? Can any one guess who he is? I am very sure you already know who I have been talking about, don't you? If I were to say "T.R.," you would at once smile and say, "That means Teddy Roosevelt," and so when I say "T. B.," you know that I mean the terrible giant, "Tuberculosis."

And to-day all of us in our comfortable and happy homes are willing and anxious to do all we can to fight this awful enemy which has so long ruled the earth and which has carried away so many useful and helpful men and women.

And every one of us can help; you, dear bright-faced young people, with your happy faces and merry voices, you are so full of life and the future looks so rosy. I feel sure that you are anxious to help in the fight for clean homes, clean lives and healthy bodies.

In a little while, oh, such a little while, you will be the citizens of this great republic; you will carry on the affairs of state, and it depends upon you in a very large measure that future is one of home and happiness and right living.

To-day all over this and other cities there are being sold the tiny stamps which are being sold just to help fight the giant a bit harder, Every Christmas message carrying these little symbols of hope does that much to bring nearer the day when the giant which has been called the "Great White Plague" shall leave our fair land forever.

"Little Jack Horner, who sat in a corner, eating his Christmas pie," is an old friend to us all; but I want to tell you about another little boy named Jack, who was just as nice as Jack Horner, But his mamma was always too busy to tell him a great many things he ought to know, and so he got into a great deal of trouble.

In the first place, he did not keep his face and hands clean, nor comb his hair, nor brush his teeth. Besides, he was not careful to eat clean food, nor did he care whether the room in which he slept or played had good fresh air in it or not. He just played and played, and went to school

dirty, and came home dirty; and at dinner he took his food up with his dirty fingers.

It may be that he "pulled out a plum with his thumb," just as Jack Horner did. But this little Jack's thumb was so dirty that something very sad happened to him. I am going to tell you what it was; but before I do so I am going to tell you something else that I do not believe you know.

Hidden in the dirt, wherever you see it, there are often many tiny, tiny seeds of sickness. You know how we hide the flower seeds in the dark ground and do not see anything of them for a

long time. But you know these same seeds are really busy growing down in the ground, and one day they push up to the light and grow to make a pretty plant.

Now these little seeds of sickness grow just that same way if they can only get inside of a little boy or girl thorough his or her mouth or nose. They hide away and grow and grow until they sometimes make a big sickness.

Now this little Jack did not know all this. So he kept on eating his food with his dirty fingers until one day he felt very sick. In fact he was so sick that he asked his mamma to please put him to bed. Poor Jack! Mamma was frightened, for she knew something must be very wrong for her little boy to want to go to bed. So she sent for the doctor in a great hurry.

When the doctor came he looked at poor Jack and said:

"Where are your rosy cheeks, Mr. Jack?"

Then he looked at the window, and saw that it was shut tight. He also saw Jack's dirty face and hands, and he felt very sorry for the poor little boy. He asked Jack's mother if she would not let her little son go to a great big house out in the country, where there were many other sick boys and girls learning how to grow to be strong and well children. He talked a long time, and finally Jack's mamma promised to let her boy go. So the next day she took him to this big house and left him.

At first Jack was very lonely for his mamma. He was afraid that he would have to take some "horrid" medicine, but he did not have to do He just had to stay all day and all night

SO.

in a nice clean bed out on a big piazza. He had a nice bath every day, and good clean food to eat.

Of course Jack grew tired of his bed when he began to get better. But he tried very hard to be good, for the lady who took care of him told him what I have told you about the little sick seeds. She also told him that the way to get rid of these seeds was to live out of doors just as he was now doing, and to eat clean food, just as he was eating there. She told him that he was getting better every day.

When he grew well and strong he wanted to go home, he had been away from his mamma such a long, long time. The doctor said he might go if he would remember five things, so as not to get sick again. Jack promised and learned the five things. Then he went home and taught them to his mother and to many other little boys and girls. He told them that these rules would help them to keep away the tiny seeds of sickness so they could grow up strong and happy boys and girls.

And now I will tell you the five things, so you can know more than little Jack did and not be sick at all. If you count them on your fingers you will see that there are just five of them. Ist. Keep your face and hands clean.

2nd. Clean your finger nails and brush your teeth.

3rd. Never put anything in your mouth that is not clean.

4th. Always sleep with a window open and stay out of doors in the sunshine all you can. 5th. Eat a good breakfast, a good dinner, and a good supper every day.

It is frequently said that "Everybody knows what a sanatorium is," but if that is meant to convey the idea of what a sanatorium is like, a little inquiry will show the fallacy of the statement.

If every one knew what life in a sanatorium is, there would not be the latent fear of such an institution which manifests itself in the avoiding, as much as possible, of any contact with an ex-patient and the refusal to take him into one's employ. It has been very positively demonstrated that there is less danger of infection in a sanatorium than in any of the ordinary walks of life.

The great interest felt in the letters of sanatorium patients to their friends and acquaintances, when they contain little items concerning the life there, shows that there is a widespread interest felt in the life and occupations at such at an institution. To give a picture of this life the Wisconsin State Sanatorium is the object of this article.

The Wisconsin State Tuberculosis Sanatorium at Wales, 28 miles west of Milwaukee, is an ideally located institution. It is situated on the south

eastern slope of Government Hill, which rises about 300 feet above the grounds, and 1,300 feet above sea level. There are about 200 acres in the sanatorium tract.

Upon arriving at the main entrance to the grounds one finds that he is still a mile from the sanatorium buildings. The fine winding roadway is quickly traversed and he soon finds himself at the Administration Building. After a brief interview with the superintendent he is sent to the infirmary or to one of the cottages. If he is sent to the infirmary, the nurse shows him to a room which opens upon a sleeping-porch, open on two sides. On the porch there are three or four iron bedsteads, mounted on large casters, so that they can be easily moved. The patient is assigned to one of the beds and told to lie down and rest until dinner-time.

Life in the infirmary is like that in one large family. An air of hospitality and cheerfulness pervades the whole building. Doctors, nurses, patients every one is very cordial and friendly. "Be cheerful," appears to be the watchword, although the writer did not hear the word spoken but once during the few days that he was in the

building. There were eight men patients at the table for meals, and at an adjoining table were six women patients. The rules of the institution are not at all stringent, only such as will insure the welfare of the patient and the comfort of the others.

Except in the Infirmary, the patients are expected to be out of doors as much as possible, except during the rest hours, which are from 8 to 10 A.M, I to 3, and 7 to 7.30 P.M. Life in the cottages seems to be less like a family and more like a social club in which every one is on an equal footing. The occupants of each cottage are very friendly with each other, without dividing up into cliques, although they naturally have more to do with those whom they find congenial and responsive. There are eight cottages for patients-four for men, three for women, and one for children. There is a school, also, for the children.

The buildings for the patients are called cottages, but they are not at all like those which that word usually suggests to the mind. They are mostly of the one-story, lean-to type, consisting of two long, narrow sleeping-porches, holding ten beds each. Between the two wings are the center rooms for office, a small dining-room for patients who cannot go to the refectory, and the wash and bath rooms. Between each bed and the next one is a doorway which opens into a steam-heated corridor containing a locker and drawers for each patient. This corridor assures the patient a warm room to which he can retire at any time of the day or night without risking the danger of exposure. The cottages face the southeast, and thus afford protection from the west and northwest winds.

The spirit of the whole institution is, "Do not commiserate yourself upon being in a sort of hospital, but be cheerful and bear in mind that your business here is to get well." There is a fine spirit of camaraderie in a sanatorium. The patients all being interested in each other's welfare and notice any marked improvement with pleasure. It is a sort of topsy-turvy world, for when one is "arrested" he is not locked up, but his friends are glad that he is allowed to go home.

Oftentimes there are some interesting cases among the patients. One of them came to Wales with his hip encased in a plaster cast. For six months previous to coming to the sanatorium he had been confined to his bed. He was obliged to sit sideways on a chair with his leg extended. After two or three months he discarded the cast and walked about with the aid of crutches. In two or three weeks he was able to dispense with them, and when, after a six months' sojourn at the institution, he was transferred to a county sanatorium near his home, he was able to walk as well as ever.

Time never hangs heavy on the patient's hands, as they have many means of amusement. They keep well up in the news of the day as they have the daily papers from the city and many of them have a weekly paper from their home town. Religious services are held in the Assembly Hall every Sunday: Roman Catholic in the morning, and the ministers of the other denominations alternate with services every Sunday afternoon. A motion-picture entertainment is given every

Thursday evening, and occasiona! entertainments are frequent. Many of the patients have cameras and amuse themselves and occasionally earn an honest penny by taking pictures. Some of them, like Silas Wegg, "drop into poetry," and add to the cheerfulness of life by putting into rhymes the friendly relations between nurses and patients and touching upon some of their routine duties.

Many of the patients on arrival have some amusing experience before they learn the ways of the sanatorium. One patient, seeing a large earthern crock with the words "Water Cooler' in blue stencil-work, drew half a cupful of water from it. One taste was enough for him, and the water from the basins had the same peculiar taste. When he asked the doctor where he could get a drink of water that did not have such a medicinal taste, the doctor laughed and said, "Of course that is medicated; that's the mouthwash." The paper label had fallen off.

When one of the new patients came to the cottage, he did not know that the patients are required to weigh every Wednesday before dressing for the day. The first Wednesday, as he was dressing, one of his cottage-mates, a young Bohemian, said to him, "You must scale yourself to-day." As the advice was kindly meant, the new patient did not reply, as he was tempted to, "I'm not a fish. There are no scales on me."

In order to relieve the dread of a new patient at the idea of going to the infirmary, some of the others encouraged him by telling how nice it was there and he could have anything he wanted, day or night, by simply ringing his bell. About two o'clock in the morning he found that his hotwater jug was cold and he rang his bell three or four times. The night nurse was engaged in another part of the building and did not come. One of the other patients told him to quit ringing the bell. "You are not onto the ropes," he said; "if you want anything, the way to do is to ring the bell and then get it yourself."

Sometimes a patient writes in a more serious mood, as in the following revery :

Sitting in my large reclining-chair in a room at the infirmary on Christmas Eve, just as daylight is fading into dusk, many recollections come to mind of absent friends and of those "who have gone beyond the pale." They are not all sad thoughts, for I have many happy recollections of the departed ones.

Down the Hall, from the large Rest Room where many of the patients have gathered for a quiet hour, comes the sound of the Westminster Chimes. Soft and low come the notes of "Nearer, My God, to Thee," and then that sweet old melody, "My Old Kentucky Home." A slight pause and the chimes glide into the old favorite, Home, Sweet Home." A stanza and the refrain. As the chimes start on another stanza, the words come to mind:

"An exile from home

Splendor dazzles in vain.”

A suspicious moisture comes to my eyes. An exile from home, even though only a temporary one, does not always like to be reminded of it, and I get up and close the door.