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CLIMATE AND HEALTH
IN
HOT COUNTRIES
AND
THE OUTLINES OF
TROPICAL CLIMATOLOGY

A Popular Treatise on Personal Hygiene in the Hotter Parts
of the World, and on the Climates that will be
met with within them

BY
LIEUT.-COL. G. M. GILES, M.B., F.R.C.S.
Indian Medical Service (Retd.)

Author of
“A Handbook of the Gnats or Mosquitoes,” “Kala Azar,” and
“Beri-Beri,” &c., &c.

NEW YORK
WILLIAM WOOD AND COMPANY
MDCCCCV

INTRODUCTION.

A hundred years ago a prolonged residence in the Tropics was regarded with well-founded horror. The best the white settler in the lands of the sun dared hope for was “a short life and a merry one,” but too often the merriment was sadly lacking.

When Clive’s father made interest to get his son a writership under “Old John Company,” and packed off the troublesome lad to India, he probably regarded it as a last resource, and felt much as if he had signed the youth’s doom; but an age that hanged for sheep-stealing, or less, was like to be stern in its dealings with its children.

We know now that what the father took for vice was but evidence of the superabundant vitality of a genius, and being one, Clive naturally possessed the originality to modify his habits to his new surroundings, and so survived to become an Empire-builder and hero. Nor was the case exceptional, for looking back on the history of our great Indian dependency, one cannot fail to be struck with the high average ability of the few who survived to attain leading positions.

Furlough to Europe was almost impossible, and the hills were unknown, but in spite of this, many of these seasoned veterans who had learned their lesson lived, in the land of their adoption, to a green old age. But the rank and file, who could not or would not learn, died off like rotten sheep; and to this day it is the young and inexperienced, who have as yet not learned to adapt and protect themselves, who fall the readiest victims. At home it is, I believe, generally recognised that at the age of 26 a man is rather past his best from the athletic point of view, and it is hardly to be supposed that he is not equally at his fittest before that age, simply because he has shifted his domicile a couple of thousand miles to the south; but so fatal is the want of caution and intolerance of precaution inherent in early manhood, that most authorities recommend that, if possible, emigration to a hot climate should be postponed till the age of 25. This obstinate determination to carry to tropical parts habits of life suitable only to the more temperate parts of Europe was carried in old times to an almost incredible extent.

Now and again, in the guest-chamber of some native noble’s house, one may come across quaint old paintings and engravings which show our great grandfathers fighting or playing cricket in exactly the same costume as their contemporaries at home. No alteration whatever was made in the soldier’s dress, and his officers duelled, drank, and gambled in the same old Ramillies wigs that led such portentous gravity to those charming discussions with the enemy as to who should “fire first.” Even the earlier files of the Illustrated London News show the same things, and looking at these old pictures, the wonder is not so much that many succumbed as that any survived. Even in Europe the conditions of military service were terribly unhealthy, and when transplanted to the Tropics the mortality was such as to give to India and other hot countries an evil reputation which they have not yet lived down.

The dire struggle of the Indian Mutiny led to the first attempts to clothe and treat the soldier in a somewhat more rational fashion, and since then great improvements have been effected; but a great deal more remains to be done, especially in the matter of utilising our recently gained knowledge of the causation of malaria, before our military statistics can be expected to show how little this evil reputation is due to the climate itself, and how much has really been caused by human misdirection. No amount of sanitary improvement can be expected to render Bombay a comfortable place of residence in the dog days, and apart from localities at considerable elevations, where the climate is really temperate, it is hopeless to expect that anything in the way of actual colonisation can succeed in the climates with which we are dealing; but with due care and attention to sanitary laws, as modified by the altered conditions, there is no reason why the rates of sickness and mortality should be much more formidable than elsewhere.

In the following pages the writer has endeavoured to put into popular form the principal points of personal hygiene as applied to hot countries, and as they are intended mainly for the non-professional reader, all technical terms have been, as far as possible, avoided, and words in popular use, such as germs, &c., have been substituted for the more exact nomenclature of science. Should any of his medical colleagues care to read a merely popular work, they can easily supply for themselves, in place of these vague, popular words, the more precise terminology in use amongst ourselves.

The climates of the hotter parts of the world vary even more widely than those of the temperate zone, so that it is often impossible to offer suggestions applicable to all of them; and on this account it is extremely important that the intending resident or visitor to them should be able to ascertain what is the exact nature of the climatic conditions with which he will have to cope, so that it is absolutely essential to include within the scope of a work like the present some account of the climates of the various countries included in the enormous area under consideration. On this account the little book has been divided into two distinct parts, the first of which is devoted to personal tropical hygiene, while the second, which deals with climate, is necessarily mainly a dry mass of tabulated information, of which only the few pages devoted to the country he proposes to visit is likely to interest the individual reader.

The inclusion of information of the sort is, however, quite essential, as it is by no means easily accessible, and, as a matter of fact, scarcely exists, except in the form of the official records of the various meteorological observatories, so that when collecting data for the compilation of this second part, or appendix, on tropical climates, the writer was a good deal surprised to find that he was engaged in the preparation of what is really a pioneer work on the subject in the English language.

This being the case, it has been thought well to publish these outlines of tropical climatology also in a separate form for the use of the professional reader who may not care to be burdened with a booklet on health treated from the popular point of view; a step which has further necessitated that the paging and indexing of the two parts should be kept separate from each other, a plan which, in view of the moderate dimensions of the book, might otherwise have appeared rather superfluous.

LIST OF DRUGS, &c., MENTIONED IN THE TEXT.

Bicarbonate of soda.

Bismuthi salicyl., in tabuloids of grains x. each.

Book of litmus paper.

Boracic acid, in powder.

Calomel, in tabuloids of ¹⁄₂ grain each.

Carbolic acid, with sufficient glycerine added to keep it in a fluid condition.

Castor oil.

Castor oil with resorcin:—

Citrate of potash.

Easton’s syrup, put up in a bottle marked to its dosage.

Ether sulphuric. This drug is too volatile for storage in the ordinary way in the Tropics and so should be put up in glass capsules each holding a drachm.

“Fever” or diaphoretic mixture:—

Goa ointment:—

Gregory’s powder.

Hydrochloric acid, preferably in the dilute form.

Opium, in tabuloids of 1 grain each.

The “Patna” drug is preferable as a sedative before the administration of ipecacuanha.

Paint for “Dhobi’s itch”:—

Perchloride of mercury, in tabuloids:—

Permanganate of potash, put up in packets of 2 oz. each, wrapped in waterproof paper, for disinfecting wells.

Phenacetin; tabuloids of grains v. each.

Phenyle, “Little’s soluble.”

Pills for hill diarrhœa and similar disturbances of the bowel:—

Pulv. hydrargyri cum creta, popularly known as grey powder.

Pulv. ipecacuanhæ, in tabuloids of 5 grains each.

Quinine sulphate (or hydrochloride) in powder. The cork should be fitted with a small wooden cup, to measure 5 grains approximately.

Resorcin, in tabuloids of grains v. each.

Thymol, in tabuloids of grains x. each.

Tinct. camphoræ composita, popularly known as “paregoric elixir.”

INDEX TO PART I.,
CLIMATE AND HEALTH IN HOT COUNTRIES.

[For Index to Part II., “Outlines of Tropical Climatology,” see [end of volume].]

• Abdominal chills, danger of, and methods of protection from, [28], [32], [144]-[146], [149]; infantile, [153]
• Aerated waters—
• Cholera, safety of drinking, in outbreak of, [136]; manufacture of, neglect of necessary precautions in, [45]-[47]; home manufacture of, [47]-[48]
• Africa, Bilharzia prevalent in, [184]
• Africa, South—
• Camping out in, [83]
• Clothing in, [25]; suitable head-dress, [170]
• Sleeping sickness of, [164], [165]
• Sunstroke rare in, [166]
• mentioned, [113]
• Air, disinfecting powers of, [162]
• Aladdin’s Palace, [8]
• Alcohol, [62], [147]
• Allahabad, water supply of, [37]
• Alum—
• Drinking water purified by, [43], [137], [138]
• Injuriousness of, in baking powder, [59]
• Rice, cooking of, used in, [60]-[61]
• America—
• Head-dress in, [29], [171]
• North, mosquitoes in, [101]
• “American” cotton drill—
• Tent manufacture, for, [85]
• Unsuitability of, for hot climates, [26]
• “Anglo-Indian gauze,” [23]
• Animals infected by plague, [156]; sacredness of, in India, [156]
• Ankles, protection of, against mosquito bites, [117]
• Anopheles mosquitoes—
• Characteristics of, [102]-[104]
• Eggs of, [figure] of, [95]
• Larvæ of, [4], [97]-[99]
• Nets protecting against, [124]
• Antipyrin, use of, in malaria, [128]
• Ants, white, [6], [14], [18]
• Apples, avoidance of, during hot weather, [58]
• Assam, [182]; plan of houses in, [5]; protection against leeches in riding, [29]
• Asses’ milk for feeding infants, [50], [152]-[153]
• Australia—
• Bladder worm disease in, [184]
• Head covering in, [29]
• Tape worm parasites in meat in, [55]
• Bacon fat, nutritive value of, [79]
• Baids, or native doctors, [126]
• Baking powders, ingredients of, [59]
• Bamboo matting, use of, for building purposes, [5]
• Bancroft, Dr., [100]
• Barracks in India, advisability of protecting against mosquitoes, [122]
• Basel Mission, Cannanore, fabrics manufactured by, [27], [28]
• Beef tea, [62]
• Bengali, [14], [145]
• Benger’s food, [149], [154]
• Bhindi, the, [58]
• Bhisti (Mahomedan water carriers) unclean methods of, [38]-[39]; character of, [39]-[40]
• Bhraman, [138]
• Bile, functions of, and relation to dysentery, [143]
• Bilharzia, [184]
• Bismuth, salicylate of, administration of, in infantile diarrhœa, [151]
• Blackwater fever, [127]
• Bladder worm, [183]-[184]
• Blood-worm disease, [90], [93], [97], [183]
• Blue pill, [150]
• Boer felt hats, [170]-[171]
• Boils—
• Perchloride of mercury lotion a preventive against, [178]
• Prickly heat as sequelæ of, [177]
• Bombay, [12]
• Bottle feeding of infants, danger of, in the tropics, [151]
• Brand’s extract, [142]
• Bread, [59]
• British Medical Journal cited, [74]
• Buffalo milk, butter made from, [52]
• Bugs, [115]
• Bungalow, Indian, see under [India].
• Burglars, precautions against, [68]-[69]
• Burmah, [114]; plan of houses in, [5]; protection against leeches in riding, [29]
• Bushire, Subsabad Residency at, [8]
• Butter, danger of germs in, [51]-[52]; making at home, [52]; buffalo milk for, [52]; tinned, [52]
• Calcutta, [12], [65], [123]
• Calomel, administration of, in heatstroke, [176]
• Campagna, Italian, [119]
• Camps, choice of site for, [87]; difficulties as to conservancy, [87]-[88]; water supply for, [88]
• Canal irrigation—
• Dangers of, [109]
• Officials of, Government, protection of houses of, against mosquitoes, suggested, [122]
• Cancer, [109]
• Cannanore, Basel Mission at, fabrics manufactured by, [27], [28]
• Cape Colony—
• Sunstroke in, rarity of, [29]
• Tape-worm parasites in meat at, [55]
• Ticks, protection against, in riding, [28]
• Carbonic acid—
• Action of, on cholera germs, [48], [133]
• Compressed, supply of, in steel cylinders, [47]
• Castor oil, administration of, in malaria, [127]-[128]; in dysentery, [147]; in infantile diarrhœa, [151], [154]
• Castor oil shrub, antipathy of mosquitoes to, [116]
• Cawnpore—
• Tent manufacture at, [84]
• “Twilled lining” manufactured at, [27]
• Water supply of, [37]
• “Cawnpore tent club hat,” [30], [169]
• Ceilings, lath and plaster, non-employment of, in India, [17]
• Ceiling cloths, defects of, [16]-[17]
• Celli, Prof. A., plan of, for wire gauze protection against mosquitoes, [118]-[121]
• Centipedes, [22], [115]
• Cgaleka campaign, [57]
• Chang houses, [5]-[6]
• Charcoal, properties of, as fuel for cooking purposes, [64]
• Cheese, [52]-[53], [79]
• Children in the Tropics—
• Clothing of, [33]-[34], [117]
• Feeding of, [76] et seq.
• Hill stations, advisability of sending to, [79]-[81]
• House accommodation of, [6], [10]
• Infants, [see that title]
• Treatment of, [81]-[82], [171]
• China, washing of clothes in, [24]
• Chittagong—
• Health of European residents in, [2]
• Houses in, [2]
• Chloral hydrate, subcutaneous injection of, in cholera cases, [141]
• Chlorodyne, danger of, in dysentery, [146]
• Cholera—
• Contraction of, through food fouled by flies, [48]
• Conveyance of, [35]-[36]
• Discharges in, infection from, [142]
• Germ of, destruction of, in wells, [42]; prolonged action of CO₂, on, [48]; conditions of development of, [132]; killing, by boiling water, [133]
• Infection, risk of, [132], [140], [142]
• Melons causing, popular fallacy as to, [58]-[59]
• Nursing of cases, precautions to be taken in, [140]
• Preventive measures against, [134]-[139]
• Symptoms of, [140]-[141]
• Treatment, [141]-[142]
• “Cholera belt,” [144], [145]
• Chrysanthemum, unopened flowers of, mosquitoes destroyed by burning, [114]
• Clay, beaten, as roofing material, [18]
• Clerestory windows, [8]
• Climate, influence of, in development of mosquitoes, [99]
• Clothing in the Tropics—
• Children, of, [33]-[34]
• European, [25]
• Evening dress in India, [28]; arranging, to protect against mosquitoes, [117]-[118]
• Foot-wear, [31]-[32]
• Head-dress, suitable, [29]-[30]
• Principles of, [22]
• Protection against mosquitoes, arranging as, [117]-[118]
• Riding dress, [28]-[29]
• Starched materials, unsuitability of, for hot climates, [26]
• Underclothes, [22]-[23], [27]-[28]
• Washing of, [23]-[25]
• Women’s, [33]
• Cod-liver oil, [79]
• Cold baths, [67]-[68]
• “Comforters,” baby’s, danger of, [74]
• Conservancy—
• Difficulties as to, in camp life, [87]-[88]
• Oriental plans of, [134]; round worm disease due to lack of, [182]
• Constipation, danger of, in tropical climates, [175]
• Consumption, [74], [109]
• Cooking, need for, and economy of good cooking, [62]-[63]
• Cork as material for hats in India, [169]
• Cornices, [15]
• Corsets, inappropriateness of, in hot climates, [33]
• Corrugated iron as roofing material, [6], [17]-[18]
• Cows—
• Condition of, in Indian villages, [50]
• Milk, drawback of, as infants’ food in India, [153]
• Cucumbers, [58], [136]
• Culex—
• Breathing arrangements of, [96]
• Characteristics of, [102]-[103]
• Eggs of, [figure] of, [95]
• Larvæ of, [98]
• “Culinary Jottings from Madras” (Wyvern), [54]; quoted, [55]
• Curry as food for children, [76]
• Daniels cited, [95]
• “Dhobi’s itch,” [24], [178]-[179]
• Diarrhœa—
• Hill, [149]-[150]
• Infantile, [150]-[155]
• Relation to dysentery, [149]
• Tomato skin, due to, [58]
• Diet in dysentery, [148]-[149]
• Digestion, partial suspension of, in malaria, [127]-[128]
• Dill water, undesirability of administering, to infants, [74]-[75]
• Dog, bladder worm in, [183]-[184]
• Drainage, surface, plan to be followed near houses, [4]
• Dress, see [Clothing]
• Drinking-water, see [Water]
• “Dungaree” material, [26]
• Dysentery—
• Causation of, [33], [143], [141]
• Characteristics of, [142]-[143]
• Conveyance of, [35]
• Germ of, [142]
• Pathology of, [143]
• Relation to diarrhœa, [149]
• Treatment, [146]-[149]
• Dyspepsia, [35]
• Egg albumen—
• Infants, feeding, with, [154]
• Meat extracts, in, [61]-[62] and [notes]
• Eggs, [56]
• Egypt—
• Bilharzia prevalent in, [184]
• Head covering in, [29]
• “Elgin” helmet, [169]
• “Equatorial Rowing Club,” [25]
• Eucalyptus plant, antipathy of mosquitoes to, [116]
• Euonymin, [150]
• Europeans in tropical climates, immunity of, from native diseases, [180]
• Fainting, [167]-[168]
• Feet, swelling of, in hot countries, [32]; footwear in the Tropics, [31]-[32]
• Felt for hats in India, [169]
• “Fever mixture,” [128]
• “Field officer’s Kabul” tent, [85]
• Filariasis, [93], [183]
• Filters, danger of ordinary form of, [135]
• Fish as food in hot climates, [56]; tinned, [61]; killed by mosquitoes, [94]
• Fisher. Dr. T., cited, [74]
• Flannel, wearing, next the skin, [22]-[23]
• Fleas, [94], [115]
• Flies—
• Danger of, to food supplies, [48]
• Method of freeing tents from, [86]-[87]; of freeing houses, [115]
• Ophthalmia introduced through, [34]
• Sleeping sickness, concerned in, [164]-[165]
• Flukes, [184]
• Foods (for particular foods, see their names, as milk, bread, meat, &c.)
• Bad, consequence of, [35]
• Changes in, producing infantile diarrhœa, [150], [151]
• Cooking of, disease germs destroyed by, [48]
• Dealing with, precautions necessary, [48]-[49]; unclean methods of natives, [51], [59]
• Infants, of, rapid deterioration of, in tropical countries, [150]
• Tinned, [61]-[62]
• Forest officials, government protection of houses of, suggested, [122]
• Fruit, [58]-[59];
• tinned fruits, [61]
• Gardens, danger of, in malarious places, [2]-[3], [109]; watering of, in India, [109]-[112]
• Gauze, metallic, protection of houses by means of, [68]-[69], [118]-[123], [166]
• Gauze bags, mosquitoes destroyed in, [113]
• Ghi, [111]
• Gnats, see [mosquitoes]
• “Gnats or mosquitoes,” [114]
• Goa powder, application of, in Dhobi’s itch, [179]
• Goat’s milk for feeding infants, [152]-[153]
• Gram, tops of, as a substitute for spinach, [57]
• Graphic, [170]
• Grassi, Prof., [90]
• Gregory’s powder, administration of, in infantile diarrhœa, [151], [154]
• Guinea worm, [183]
• Haffkine’s plague protective emulsion, [160]
• Hands, swelling of, in hot climates, [32]
• Hankin, [131], [137]
• Haqims, or “native doctors,” [126]
• Heat stroke, [174]-[176]
• Hill diarrhœa, [149]-[150]
• Hill stations—
• Children, advisability of sending, to, [79]-[81]
• Sickness in, prevalence of, [81]
• Himalayas, prevalence of diarrhœa in, [149]
• Hindu repugnance for meat, [60]
• Hindu kahar, reasons for employment of, [38]-[39]
• Honduras, plan of houses in, [5]
• Hookworm, [181]-[182]
• Hornets, [115]
• Horse sickness, prevention of, Mr. Power’s experiments, [113]
• Hospitals, plague, [160]
• Houses in tropical countries—
• Chang houses, [5]-[6]
• Cooling, after heat of the day, methods of, [69]-[70]
• Flooring, materials suitable for, [15]
• Indian bungalow, ground plan of, showing well placed doors and windows, [7]; sketch of common type, [10]; plan showing adaptation of Celli method of wire gauze protection, [121], [122]
• Light, question of, [9]-[10], [60], [69]
• Materials appropriate for building, [14]-[15]
• Plan, suggested, for house of moderate dimensions, [20]-[21]
• Plinth, construction of, [3]-[5]
• Principles of building, epitome of, [19]-[20]
• Roofing materials, [15]-[18]
• Rooms, height of, necessary, [11]-[12]
• Site, suitable, choice of, [1]-[3]
• Storeys, number of, desirable, [4]-[5], [12]
• Ventilation of, [6]-[9], [13], [68]-[69]
• Verandahs, function of and building of, [10]-[11]
• Wire gauze protection of openings, method of, [118]-[123], [166]
• Hutchison, Robert, M.D., on “Patented Food and Patent Medicines,” quoted, [61]-[62], [notes]
• Hydrochloric acid, [161]
• Illustrated London News, [170]
• Incense, mosquitoes driven from houses by burning, [114]
• India (see also names of places)—
• Animal life in, sacredness of, [156]
• Bhistis, the, character of, [39]-[40]
• Bungalows in, ground plan of, showing doors and windows well placed, [7]; sketch of common type of, [10];
• plan of, showing Celli method of wire gauze protection, [121], [122]
• Calls, hours for paying, [172]
• Children in, reason for frequent feebleness of, [10]
• Clothing in (see also title [Clothing])—
• Evening dress, [28], [117], [118]
• Tussur serge outer garments, [29]
• Cotton fabrics manufactured in, [27]
• Gardens, method of watering, [109]-[112]
• Head-dress, suitable, in, [29], [169]-[173]
• Houses in, non-employment of lath and plaster ceilings in, [17]
• Infants in, [73]
• Kitchens in, appliances for and superintendence of, [63]-[64]
• Meat in, tape-worm parasite found in, [55]
• “Mutton Clubs,” [54]
• Natives, tact required for management of, [158]-[162]
• Outfit for, obtaining, in England, [26]
• Plague in, [155] et seq.
• Prisons, medical officers of, [148]
• Sleeping sickness, fly concerned in, found in, [165]
• Swimming baths in, disuse of, [67]
• Tent life in, [83]-[88]
• Tent making industry in, [84]
• Washing of clothes in, [24]
• Water supply—
• Carriers, Mahomedan and Hindu, methods of, [38]-[39]
• Precautions to ensure purity, see under [Wells]
• Infants—
• “Comforters,” dangers of, [74]
• Death-rate high in Tropical Climates, [150]
• Diarrhœa among, [150]-[155]
• Dill water, danger of, to, [74]-[75]
• Disorders of, treatment of, [74]-[5]
• Feeding of, [75]-[76], [150]-[154]
• Fresh air, need for, [73]-[74]
• Hot climates for, advantages of, [73]
• Milk for, [50]; on voyages, [51]
• “Infants’ Food,” [74], [75]
• Inoculations, protective, against plague, [158], [160]
• Insect pests, destruction of, [115]
• Internal worms, [179] et seq.
• Ipecacuanha, administration of, in dysentery, [147]-[148]; in diarrhœa, [150]
• Ismailia, malaria at, [107]
• Italy—
• Children of, diet of, [79]
• Malaria in, prevention of, [118]-[119]
• Mosquitoes in, survival of larvæ of, during winter months, [100]
• Villas in, “ideal models for tropical climates,” [113]
• Jæger materials, [23]
• Jellies, disease germs cultivated in, [43]
• Jungle, avoidance of, in choice of dwelling site, [2]
• “Kabul Tent,” [85]
• “Kamarband,” [144]-[145]
• Kidneys—
• Function of, suspended in cholera attacks, [141]
• Strain on, from excessive meat eating, [60]
• Kitchens, Indian, appliances for and superintendence of, [63]-[64]
• Koch, [131]
• “La Martinière,” Lucknow, [80]
• Lablab bean, [57]
• Lahore, tent manufacture at, [84]
• Lamb, unsatisfactoriness of, in hot countries, [54]
• Larvæ, wintering, breeding of, [101]
• Laurence Military Asylum, [80]
• Laveran, malaria research work of, [90]
• Lentils, [60]
• Lettuces, avoidance of, during cholera outbreaks, [135]
• Light—
• Disinfecting powers of, [162]
• Exclusion of, in tropical houses, [9]-[10]
• Plague germs destroyed by, [156]
• Protection against mosquitoes, as, [100]-[101], [116]-[117]
• Lime, clearing of water supplies by, [43], [137], [138]
• Lime not to be used in combination with perchloride of mercury, [162]
• Liquor ammoniæ acetatis, administration of, in malaria, [128]
• Liver functions, disturbance of, in dysentery, [143], [146]
• Lobán, [114]
• London, business hours in, [65]
• Lucknow—
• Historical residency ruins at, [14]
• “La Martinière,” [80]
• Water supply of, [37]
• Lumbrici, [180]
• Macaroni and cheese, children’s dietary, in, [79]
• Maclean, Prof., cited, [89]-[90]
• Madras, [64]
• Mahomedan countries, water carrying in, [38]
• Maize cobs, mosquitoes driven out of houses by burning, [114]
• Malaria—
• Causation, early theories and research work as to, [89]-[91]
• Cold baths, relapse induced by, [67]-[68]
• Parasite of, life history of, [91]-[92], [105]-[106]
• Prevention of, [28], [106] et seq.
• Quinine, value of, in treating, [104], [125]-[129]
• Seasonal prevalence of, [104], [105]
• Site of houses in reference to, [1]-[3]
• Spread of, danger of single case in helping, [104]-[105], [125]
• Temperature, influence of, in development of, [92]
• Treatment of, [125]-[129]
• Malay, house materials in, [14]
• Malay Archipelago, [114]
• Manson, Sir Patrick (F.R.S.), research work as to malaria causation, [90]
• Mashak, [38]-[39]
• Massage in relief of cholera cramps, [141]
• Meat (see also mutton, veal, &c.)
• Cooking, need for thoroughness in, [55]-[56]
• Extracts, nutritive value of, [61], and [note], [62]
• Hanging of, [54]
• Indian “mutton clubs,” [53]-[54]
• Preservation of, by sulphur fumes, [55]
• Quality of, obtainable in hot countries, [53]-[4]
• Tinned, [61]
• Meat juice, feeding infants with, [154]
• Melons, [53], [59], [136]
• Mercury, perchloride of, administration of, in dysentery, [147], [148]; in infantile diarrhœa, [151]; lotion, application of, in prickly heat, [178]
• Mexican sombrero, [171]
• “Miasma,” [89]
• Midges, mosquitoes distinguished from, [93]
• Milk—
• Asses’, for feeding infants, [50], [152]-[3]
• Boiled, digestibility of, [49]-[50]
• Children’s diet, in, [77]
• Cholera conveyed by, [132]
• Cows’, as food for infants in India, [50], [75], [153]; sterilisation of, and need for, native ignorance and frauds as to, &c., [49], [51]
• Disease transmitted by, [49]
• Dysentery, in, [146], [149]
• Goats’, as food for infants, [50], [75]-[76], [152]-[153]
• Puddings of, disease germs cultivated in, [48]
• Quality of, testing, [51]
• Sterilisation of, [49]
• Minced food for children, [77]-[78]
• “Moon-blindness,” [13]
• Mosquitoes—
• Anopheles, see [that title]
• Biting animals, method of, [94]
• Breeding, situations favouring, [101]-[102]
• Culex, see [that title]
• Danger of encouraging, near dwellings, [2]-[3]
• Disease carriers, as, [22], [93]
• Eggs, depositing of, [94]-[95]; diagram of various forms of, [95]
• Food of, distinction between male and female as to, [94]
• Geographical distribution of, [101]
• Habits of, [93]-[94]
• Larval existence, duration of period of, [98], [99]
• Life history of, [94] et seq.
• Light and heat, tolerance of, [100]-[101], [116], [117]
• Malaria, relation to, [90], [92], [93]
• Midges distinguished from, [93]
• Myzorrhynchus sinensis, [figure] of larvæ of, [97]
• Nets, patterns of, [87], [123]-[125]
• Panoplites, [figure] of eggs of, [95]
• Perpetuation of the species, maintenance of, during winter months, [99]-[100]
• Protection against—
• Breeding places, destruction of, [108]-[112]
• Dress, modifying, as a protection, [117]-[118]
• Gauze bags, by means of, [115]
• Houses, precautions to be taken in, [113]-[115]
• Italian method of protecting houses, [118]-[123]
• Light—a protective agent, [100]-[101], [116]-[117]
• Ointments, &c., by means of, [116]
• Rainy season, prevalence during, [102], [104], [125]
• Stegomyia, see [that title]
• Travelling, incapability of, [100]
• Mutton, [54]
• Myzorrhynchus sinensis, [figure] of larva of, [97]
• Naini Thal, water supply of, [37]
• Naphthol β, administration of, in infantile diarrhœa, [151]
• Natal, head covering in, [29]
• Natives of tropical countries, unclean habits of, [63]-[64], [181]
• Neem tree, leaves of, mosquitoes destroyed by burning, [114]
• Negroes, [145]
• Nettle-rash, [77]
• Nuttall cited, [95]
• Oatmeal porridge, [79]
• Onions, [58]
• Ophthalmia, protection of children from, [34]
• Opium, administration of, in dysentery, [146], [148]
• “Pandemic waves,” [131]
• Panoplites, diagram of eggs of, [95]
• Paraffin, use of, in destroying mosquitoes, [108], [110]-[112]
• Paregoric, administration of, in infantile diarrhœa, [151]
• “Patent Foods and Patent Medicines,” Robert Hutchison, M.D., quoted, [61]-[62], [notes]
• Persia—
• Ankle boots in, [31]
• Houses, system of ventilation of, [8]-[9]; ground plan of European Bungalow, [9]; double verandahs for, [11]
• Persian Gulf, clothing in, [25]
• Phenacetin, use of, in malaria, [128]
• Phenyl for disinfecting against plague, [161]
• Pith, suitability of, for Indian sun hats, [29]
• Plague—
• Animals affected by, [156], [157]
• Conditions favouring spread of, [155]-[156]
• Evacuation of infected sites, [159]-[160]
• Infection from, [157], [163]
• Low civilisation, a disease of, [155]
• Prophylaxis against, personal, [156]-[157]; public, [157] et seq.
• Pomfret, Bombay, [56]
• Pork, ptomaine poisoning due to, in hot countries, [54]
• Potassium, permanganate of, water supplies purified by, [42], [137], [138], [139]
• Poultry, fattening of, in hot countries, [54]
• Power, Mr., [113]
• Prickly heat, [23], [34], [66], [177]-[179]
• Protective cordons, value of, in plague outbreak, [161]
• Ptomaine poisoning from eating pork, [54]
• Pugaree, [30]
• Pulses, food value of, [59]-[60]
• Pumpkins, [58]
• Punjab—
• Houses in, plan of building, [9]; sketch of common type of bungalow, [10]; materials of native dwellings, [14]
• Northern, clothing in, [25]
• mentioned, [6]
• Punkahs—
• Combining use of, with that of mosquito net, [123]-[124]
• Height of rooms giving adequate swing for, [11]-[12]
• Protection against mosquitoes afforded by, [123]
• Pulling, art of, [71]
• “Puttialla” breeches, [28]-[29]
• Pyjamas—danger of short coat, [28]
• Quarantine, value of, in plague outbreaks, [161]
• Quicklime, drinking water purified by, [137], [138]
• Quinine—
• Disinfectant action of, [125]-[126]
• Malaria, in treatment of, [101], [125]-[129]
• Rain water, bathing in, for prickly heat, [177]-[178]
• Rainy seasons, prevalence of mosquitoes during, [102], [104], [125]
• Rajputana, [6]
• Rats attacked by plague, [156], [157]; destruction of, as a protective measure in plague outbreaks, [160]-[161]
• Resorcin, administration of, in infantile “wind” attacks, [75]; in diarrhœa, [151]; in dysentery, [147]
• Rheumatism, [109]
• Rice, cooking of, [60]-[61]
• Rodents, see [Rats]
• Rome—
• Business hours in, [65]
• University of, [118]
• Roofs—
• Materials suitable for, [15]-[18]
• Sleeping places, as, [12]-[13]
• Ross, Major Ronald, F.R.S., research work on malaria causation, [90]
• Round worms, [180], [181]
• Salads, danger of, [58]
• Sambon cited, [95]
• Sand dunes as sites of houses, [2]
• Santonin, round worms expelled by, [181]
• Scandinavia, mosquitoes in, [101]
• Science Siftings quoted, [74]
• Scorpions, [22], [115]
• Scurvy—
• Infantile, due to sterilised milk, [49]
• Vegetable food, prevented by, [57]
• Sea water bathing for prickly heat, [177]
• Silk as wearing material in the tropics, [23]
• Singapore, [25]
• Sleeping arrangements in the tropics, [32];
• outdoor, [124]
• Sleeping sickness, [93], [164]-[166]
• Small-pox, [163]-[164]
• Smoke, mosquito destruction by means of, [113]-[115]
• Snakes, poisonous, [22]
• Solah hats, [29]-[30], [169]-[170]
• “Soothing Syrups,” [74]
• Soups—
• Disease germs cultivated in, [48]
• Tinned, [61]
• Soy bean, [57]
• Spinach, [57]
• Spine, protection of, from sun’s rays, [30]-[31]
• Sprue, [150]
• Stagnant water, danger of, in malarial countries, [101], [102]
• Starched materials, unsuitability of, for hot climates, [26]
• Steel girders—
• Chang houses, for, [6]
• Substituting for wooden beams, advisability of, [15]
• Stegomyia—
• Characteristics of, [102]
• Eggs of, [figure] of, [95]
• Family of, [97]
• Stimulants, use of, in malaria, [128]-[129]
• Straw, damp, mosquitoes driven out of houses by burning of, [114]
• Subterranean chambers in extreme heat, [13]-[14]
• Sugar in children’s diet, [77]
• Sulphur fumes—
• Meat preserved by, [55]
• Mosquitoes destroyed by, [114]-[115]
• Plague, disinfection against, by, [161]
• Sulphuric acid, effect of, on the cholera germ, [137]
• Sun-dried bricks, properties of, as building material, [14]-[15]
• Sunshades, [33]
• Sunstroke, [29], [166]-[174]
• Swimming baths, disuse of, in India, [67]
• “Swiss Cottage Tent,” [85]
• Symes, Dr. J. O., cited, [74]
• Symmonds, Mr., of Rosa, [124]
• Taikhana, [13]-[14]
• Tape-worms—
• Danger of, from uncooked meat, [55]
• Life history of, [183]
• “Tatties,” description and use of, [70]
• Tea for cleansing teeth, [45]
• Temperature limits within which malaria can be developed, [92]
• Tents—
• Construction of, principles to be followed in, [84]-[86]
• English and Indian makes, [83]-[84], [86]
• Terraced roofs, suitability of, in tropical climates, [18]
• Thatch as roofing material, [15]-[16]
• Theobald, Mr., cited, [95]
• Thermantidote, description and use of, [70]-[71]
• Thread worms, [180]-[181]
• Thur dal, [60]
• Thymol as vermifuge, [182]
• Ticks, [94]
• Tiles as roofing material, [17]
• Timber, drawback to use of, in tropical buildings, [5]-[6], [15]
• Tinned provisions, [61]-[62]
• Tobacco, mosquitoes destroyed by fumes of, [114]
• Tomatoes, [58], [136]
• Total abstinence and health, [62]
• Train inspections, value of? in plague outbreaks, [161]
• Trees, avoidance of, in choice of dwelling sites, [2]
• Trousers, arranging, to protect against mosquitoes, [117], [118]
• Trypanosomes, [164], [165]
• Turban, the, [30]
• Tussur serge for outer garments, [29]
• “Twilled Lining” suitable for underwear in tropical climates, [27]-[28]
• Typhoid fever—
• Contraction of, through fly-fouled food, [48]
• Conveyance of, [35]
• Hill stations, endemic in, [80]
• Vaccination, importance of revaccination, [163]-[164]
• Veal, unsatisfactoriness of, in hot countries, [54]
• Vegetables, [3], [56]-[57], [61]
• Ventilation—
• Hats, of, [30]
• Persian Houses, in, [8]-[9]
• Tents, of, [85]-[86]
• Thatched roofs favouring, [15]
• Tropical houses, in, [6]-[8], [13], [68]-[69]
• Verandahs, roofing materials for, [17]
• Vermin, building materials harbouring, [15], [16]
• Voyage to the East, clothing for, [26]
• Water—
• Aerated waters, see [that title]
• Boiling of, for drinking purposes, need for, and for personal superintendance of, [44]-[45], [133], [135]
• Contaminated, consequences of drinking—need for personal supervision of supply, [35]-[37], [131], [132]
• Filtering, danger of, [44], [135]
• Hill diarrhœa due to mineral matter in, [149]
• Indian towns, supply to, [37]-[38]
• Sources of supply—
• Rivers, [43]
• Springs, [43]
• Wells, see [that title]
• Washing of clothes, [23]-[25]
• Wells—
• Methods of becoming infected in India, [134]
• Purification of, methods of, [42], [43], [88], [134], [136]-[139]
• Reliability of, [40]-[41]
• Wet-nursing in the tropics, advisability of, [151]-[152]
• Women in hot climates, [71]-[72];
• suitable head-dress for, [171]-[178]
• Wood, see [Timber]
• Woollen materials, washing of, [23]
• Working hours in the tropics, [65]-[66]
• Worms, internal, prevention of diseases caused by, [179] et seq.
• Wyvern, “Culinary Jottings from Madras,” quoted, [54]-[55]; cited, [64]
• Yellow fever, [93], [95], [97], [102]

PART I.
CLIMATE AND HEALTH IN HOT
COUNTRIES.

Climate and Health in Hot Countries.

PART I.

CHAPTER I.
On Housing and Domestic Architecture.

In hot climates, as elsewhere, people are rarely in a position to exercise much choice in their selection of a habitation, as its site must usually depend on considerations of business, and in the majority of cases, the number of available dwellings is limited. Oftener still, it is a matter of “Hobson’s choice,” and one must needs occupy the house that has served one’s predecessors in the work in which one may happen to be engaged. On this account it will be superfluous to do more than generally indicate the general principles on which it is desirable, that houses designed to afford shelter in hot climates, should be placed and constructed.

In the matter of choice of site, the same general considerations as to soil and configuration of the ground that determine our choice in temperate climates, as a rule, hold good. A gravelly or sandy soil, and gradients favourable to natural drainage, are even greater desiderata in the Tropics than in Europe, and this is especially the case in climates characterised by a heavy rainfall; but ideal sites are rare in all countries, and as a rule, one must be content to make the best of less favourably placed spots. In the countries which we are at present considering, the especial danger against which we have to guard is always that of malaria, and hence, in choosing the site for a house or station, the great point is to select one, which is, as far as possible, free from natural or artificial collections of water, within a radius of a quarter of a mile; or at any rate, including such only as can be easily filled in, drained, or otherwise dealt with. The site should also be sufficiently raised above the level of some natural watercourse to afford an adequate outfall for its surface drainage.

For a single house, no better position can be selected than the summit of a mound, whether natural or artificial; and such situations are generally to be preferred to the slope of a hill, even where the latter affords a considerably greater elevation. On the sea coast, and not unfrequently in the neighbourhood of some of the great rivers, sand dunes, where sufficiently clad with vegetation to afford a sufficiently stable foundation, form excellent sites for single houses, good examples of which are to be found in Chittagong, where nearly every European residence has its own little hill, on which it is perched by itself; and it is doubtless to this circumstance that the comparative healthiness of the European population of the town, under otherwise unfavourable surroundings, is mainly due. The neighbourhood of jungle, and even of trees, should be as far as possible avoided, for trees undoubtedly harbour mosquitoes, and their presence is generally equivalent to that of malaria: moreover, the appearance of coolness, associated with trees, is deceptive rather than real. As a rule, even when numerous and thickly set, they throw no actual shade on the walls of the house, which hence receives as fully the power of the sun as it would in an open plain, and added to this they obstruct the breeze and generally impede ventilation; so that a house placed in the midst of a glaring, treeless space is often really far cooler than one surrounded with fine timber. Even a garden is by no means too desirable an adjunct to a tropical residence, for unless there is abundant labour to keep it in a condition of perfect neatness, and constant intelligent supervision to ensure that the cultivation of flowers and vegetables be not associated with the breeding of mosquitoes, it is only too likely to originate fever of a luxuriance at least equalling that of its roses and salads.

It must not of course be forgotten, that the provision of a free supply of good vegetables is everywhere an essential to health, and is in many localities obtainable in no other way than by the maintenance of a garden, and that under such circumstances, it is probably safest to keep their cultivation under personal supervision; but where such an accessory is indispensable, its attendant dangers should always be carefully borne in mind, and care should be taken that the garden should be so worked as to avoid its becoming a breeding place for mosquitoes. A house for example, such as that shown in the subjoined sketch, makes, doubtless, a very inviting picture, but when lived in, it would be found that the fine trees almost completely cut off the breeze, that the beautiful creepers render the verandahs and the rooms behind them “stuffy,” and that the wealth of vegetation, combined with the arrangements for irrigation, render it a veritable paradise of mosquitoes.

Fig. 1.—A Regular Mosquito-trap Bungalow.

Coming now to questions of general plan, one of the first essentials is that the floor level should be well raised above that of the surrounding ground. In most localities this object is attained by simply forming a platform of earth dug from some situation hard by, so as to form a plinth; and too often, the excavations for the purpose are made absolutely without plan or method, and result in the production of a number of irregular depressions, close by the habitation; which during rainy weather are always full of water, and form ideal breeding places for mosquitoes, besides too often serving as depositories for refuse. The earth for forming the plinth should, however, never be allowed to be obtained in this way, but previously to laying out the plan of the house or station, a careful survey of the levels and contours of the site should be made, and the alignment of a series of deep cuttings, so designed as to form an efficient system of surface drains extending from the site to the nearest natural effluent, should be laid out, so that the spoil wherewith to form plinths should be taken in a systematic manner in the digging of these cuttings, and from no other situations. The cuttings should be made as deep and narrow as they can be without expensive revetting of the sides, as experience has shown that the larvæ of the really dangerous species of mosquitoes, the Anopheletes, avoid collections of water shielded from the sun and light. As the station develops, it may perhaps become possible to pave these channels with some permanent material, such as brick or concrete, but as a rule the expense of such a proceeding is prohibitory. When, however, a certain amount of money is available for this purpose, it should be devoted to paving the smaller shallow surface drains close to the dwelling, and the deeper distant cuttings close to the effluent left to the last. No house should ever be allowed to be constructed with a plinth of less than one foot, and provided the material be obtainable without making undesirable excavations, it cannot well be too high, a fact well understood by the earlier European residents in India, whose fine old houses, however wanting their work may be in the matter of finish, form an admirable contrast, in this and many others of the essentials of a healthy residence, to the cramped, low-lying heat traps of admirably pointed brickwork in which the occupant of a “sealed pattern” government quarter is now doomed to live.

The writer is personally strongly of opinion that all tropical residences should be at least two storied, so that the sleeping apartments should be raised at least some 12 or 15 feet above the ground, and of course, where this is the case, the provision of a high plinth is less essential, but in any case, the minimum of at least a foot should be insisted upon.

In regions such as Assam and Burmah, where the rains are so heavy as to reduce the entire country to a chronic condition of flooding, any adequate plinth would be so costly that both natives and settlers build their houses perched up on poles, and the numerous sanitary advantages of the plan are undeniable; which is also, I understand, adopted in Honduras.

Fig. 2.—In the above sketch of an ordinary Anglo-Burman bungalow, it will be noticed that the large projecting porch is raised higher than the rest of the house so as to admit of a carriage being driven beneath it to the foot of the steps to the platform of the house. These porches form a sort of open-air sitting room, and are more usually on the same level as the rest of the house. They form a most attractive feature of most Burmese bungalows, but it would be very difficult to protect them against mosquitoes by means of wire gauze.

The general characteristics of these “chang” houses may be gathered from the above [sketch]. In the cottages of the peasantry the “chang,” or platform, is rarely raised more than 4 or 5 feet above the ground, but 10, or even 15 feet is no uncommon height in the case of the houses of people of means and position. Even in the case of houses occupied by planters and officials, the walls are largely composed of bamboo matting, while in those of the populace, the floor itself is formed of a stouter variety of the same material; and on account of the growing cost of timber of a class that will resist white ants, I have little doubt that ere long steel girders will replace the wooden framework and corrugated iron will take the place of the picturesque thatched roof, at any rate in the coast towns. A chang of concrete carried on stout corrugated iron, 8-inch walls of the “Elizabethan” pattern, and a double corrugated iron roof, with a large intervening air space, would form a most comfortable, if not very beautiful, residence, for the combination of heat and moisture with the evils of which the chang house is intended to cope; but walls of such flimsy materials would be of little avail to withstand the furnace-heated air of hot dry climates, such as are met with in the Punjab and the deserts of Rajputana.

One of the great sanitary advantages of the chang house is the circulation of air beneath the floors, and the comparative immunity from vermin secured by its isolation on the top of high posts, and though there is no objection to the storing beneath it of carriages and other articles frequently moved, because in daily request, the covered space beneath the house should on no account be allowed to degenerate into a lumber room, as not only will lumber attract dangerous vermin, but with the inevitable numerous native dependants, the lumber room will soon develop into a refuse heap, or worse. Although there is no need to construct a regular plinth, the ground below the chang should always be slightly raised by laying down a layer of gravel, as any collection of water would be obviously unhealthy; besides which, if kept in proper order, the large shady space forms an excellent playground for children, where such charming encumbrances form part of the household.

In actually desert climates, a plinth is less essential, but there are comparatively few countries in which heavy rain does not occur at some time of the year, and any dampness of the soil immediately underlying a house is always unhealthy.

Fig. 3.—Ground plan of an existing “up-country” Indian Bungalow, in which the doors and windows are well placed. (The dotted lines represent wire gauze screens.) Scale, 18′ = 1″

The second great desideratum of a tropical house is free ventilation, to secure which at least one, and preferably two, sides of each room should be in free communication with the outer air by means of doors or windows, and some at least of these should extend to the floor level or near it. Many Indian houses are spoilt by want of attention to this point, especially those of long standing; for though the original plan may have been fairly sound, the desire for additional accommodation generally, in course of time, leads to additions, and especially to the enclosure of verandahs, whereby rooms, originally light and airy, are quite cut off from all exterior ventilation. Many of these enclosed rooms have small dormer or clerestory windows, close up to the roof; but openings of this sort are no real substitute for proper windows and doors in the usual position, and where choice can be exercised, a house with inner rooms should be rejected in favour of one affording freer ventilation.

The [subjoined plan] is a good example of an existing, well-planned bungalow of one floor, in which every room has external doors and windows, and several have them on two sides. It should be added that every room has one or more clerestory windows to give exit to the heated air that always finds its way to the top of any enclosed space.

In the best class of houses in Persia this principle of free external ventilation is often carried to the extent of all four sides of the rooms being provided with several openings—the different rooms being separated from each other by open passages, running right across the building from verandah to verandah.

As there are often several doors on each side, one easily realises that Aladdin’s hundred-doored palace may have been no mere creation of the fancy, but was probably based on some actual palace—indeed, as a matter of fact, the Subsabad Residency at Bushire has, I believe, a good deal over the allowance of doors assigned to Aladdin’s palace, and I know that the room I occupied there had no less than nine doors, though two of them gave access respectively to a dressing-room and bath-room.

The outline ([fig. 4]) will give some idea of the way in which the rooms are arranged; but it is needless to say that the plan is a very expensive one. It will be noticed that the southern verandahs are double. Practically speaking, indeed, a Persian house is little else than a series of colonnades, with the spaces between certain of the pillars filled in with door frames, so that it would be an expensive business to fortify one against the invasion of mosquitoes.

Houses of this type are well suited to climates usually blessed with a good breeze, and in which the heat during the day does not reach such a degree as to necessitate shutting it out, and are specially adapted to places where, from scarcity of labour, there is a difficulty about the pulling of punkahs. When, however, the midday heat reaches into the nineties, such a plan of building becomes unsuitable, and it is necessary to adopt the thick-walled type of house, with comparatively few floor level openings; the object being to keep imprisoned the cooler night air, so that the interior may never approach the maximum shade temperature of the day. It is obvious that the adoption of this principle quite precludes all proper ventilation, and that unless the rooms are exceptionally large and lofty it must be positively unhealthy. At the same time, heat beyond a certain degree induces such severe nervous and physical prostration that the adoption of this course is almost unavoidable during the worst hours of the day in such climates as the Punjab; but the shorter the period the better, and as the same reasons that render the house cooler than the outer air in the day, make it hotter at night; it is always well to compensate for the lack of ventilation during the day by sleeping absolutely in the open at night.

Fig. 4.—Rough ground plan of an European Bungalow in Persia.

Too often, not only the air, but the light is shut out, a course of action which is as pernicious as it is futile, for unless the sun be shining directly into the room its temperature will be in no way raised by admitting an ample amount of light.

There can be no doubt that this baneful practice of keeping children shut up in darkened rooms is one of the principal causes of the blanched and enfeebled little ones so often met with in India; for they suffer promptly from deprivation of light, though they are wonderfully tolerant of heat, and if unchecked by their anxious mothers, will follow their own wholesome instincts, and be found romping and tumbling about with the servants and orderlies in the verandah, at temperatures that make their parents devote anxious consideration to the question of crossing a room.

Fig. 5.—Sketch of bungalow with terraced roof, of a type very common in the Punjab and United Provinces in India. Speaking generally, this bungalow is well planned. Its faults are that the verandah is too low-pitched, leaving a needlessly large proportion of the external walls exposed to the full power of the sun. The dormer or ventilating windows also are too low down, as they leave several feet of confined “dead” air at the top of the rooms. They should have been placed close up to the cornice.

The third important consideration in planning a good tropical house is that the outer walls should, as far as possible, be shielded from the direct rays of the sun by ample verandahs. Objects exposed to the full glare of the sun soon become so hot that it is difficult to handle them, reaching a temperature 40° or 50° F. higher than that of the air, and though building materials conduct heat but slowly, they do so very surely, so that the air within any building with extensive unshielded sunward walls cannot fail to be considerably hotter than that of one so planned that as small an area of wall as possible is directly exposed. Within the true Tropics, the sun must necessarily come to the northward of any localities for a longer or shorter portion of the year, and in such low latitudes it is desirable that the verandah should extend all round the house; but outside the equatorial zone the side looking away from the noon-day sun may be left unprotected as far as the coolness of the house is concerned; though a northern verandah is still desirable, as affording the most eligible position for an open air lounge during the day. Within practicable limits, a verandah can hardly be too wide, and as one of its main functions is to shield the main wall, it is also important that it should be high pitched, but this point is too often lost sight of, although the additional cost of constructing a higher-pitched verandah is very small, as the supports of these structures cost but little, in comparison with the roof. Of course the oblique rays of the sun will search into a high verandah for a longer time than they can in a low one, but this defect is easily obviated by closing the upper part of the colonade with wooden jalousies or with mats, but in this case openings should be provided in the roof to give exit to what must be almost dead air. Verandahs of less than six feet width are of comparatively little use, and 10 feet may be considered to be a fair average standard, but 15 feet is by no means excessive, if it can be afforded, and as shown in the diagram on page 9, double verandahs, consisting of two colonnades, each about 12 feet wide, are by no means uncommon in Persia.

To attain an equivalent standard of comfort, the rooms of a tropical house require to be much higher pitched than is needful in temperate climates, but it is quite possible to carry this to excess, as over a certain height, the pendulum swing of the punkah is too slow; and it is well known to students of ventilation that spaces of dead air, unsearched by the currents normally circulating through the room, are very apt to be found in too lofty apartments. From 16 to 18 feet is a good average standard, and if the height be carried many feet above the higher figure, it is desirable that a strong beam should be carried across the room, at about that level, to carry the punkah. As far as ventilation is concerned, there is probably little advantage in any height of ceiling above 13 feet, but this does not give an adequate swing for a punkah.

As already incidentally mentioned, the writer holds a strong preference for houses of two or more floors. While residents of Calcutta or Bombay will never, if they can avoid it, live on the ground floor, there is a general but quite unfounded idea, amongst up-country residents in India, that upper floors are necessarily hotter.

It is needless to say that the reverse is actually the case, and that other things being equal, upper storey rooms are necessarily cooler and more healthy, on account of their better exposure to the breeze and their being to a great extent raised above dust and other more subtle emanations from the soil. The reason for this misapprehension is that, outside the Presidency towns, upper rooms are almost universally makeshift additions, with no proper verandah protection, and often flimsy roofs. Now it is obvious that to gain the full advantage of an upper storey, all verandahs should be carried right up, so that except in being elevated above the soil, the upper rooms are exact reproductions of those below them. I cannot recall, however, a single instance of a properly planned two-storied house “up-country,” and it is absurd to expect that a room with thin brick walls, exposed directly to the sun’s rays, can be as comfortable as one with massive walls and broad verandahs. It may be admitted that during the day, when the doors are shut to keep out the heat, the upper rooms of a two-storied house will be hotter than the lower ones, because one has but a single roof overhead in place of two, but they will be cooler than the lower ones would be, assuming the upper story to be removed.

It is also extremely desirable that the plan of the house should include a stair giving access to the roof, as during the hot dry season, there can be no doubt that it is by far the healthiest plan to sleep there.

A small area of thatched roof supported on four pillars should be erected on the roof to protect the sleeper from dew, and to prevent his being worried by the glare of the moon, which to say the least of it makes it very difficult to sleep. Whether there is any truth in the belief that exposure to the moon’s rays may cause blindness or not, I cannot say, but I certainly have met with a number of cases of temporary blindness for which it was, to say the least of it, extremely difficult to find any plausible explanation other than the popular one. Moreover, as we are quite in the dark as to the modus operandi of true sunstroke, it seems unscientific to deny that over-stimulation of the retina by the moon’s rays can be capable of producing the symptoms in question, and at any rate it is preferable to act on the assumption that “moon-blindness” may be a possible contingency.

It is, further, a matter of great importance that the upper limits of the air-space included within a room should be ventilated by means of openings placed close up to the ceiling, as otherwise a stratum of impure, heated air will lodge there, which can only be removed by the slow action of diffusion. In one-storied houses this is usually effected by means of small windows, and in order to admit of a sufficient number of these being provided, it is a common expedient to carry the walls of rooms situated in the interior of the house above those of the lateral rooms, as shown in [fig. 4]. There should, however, be no necessity for doing this, as no room should be ever built with no external wall; and though upper openings on more sides than one may be desirable, this is not so essential as to warrant the large increase of cost involved in building in this way. Where a house has an upper storey, the top ventilation of the lower rooms is usually effected by openings into the verandahs; but this is by no means a satisfactory outlet, and it would be far preferable to effect the purpose by means of shafts carried up in the thickness of the walls to the roof, the long column of air within which would favour the production of a good current.

In certain parts of the East, subterranean chambers (taikhana) are used as a refuge during periods of extreme heat, and are occasionally to be met with in very old European bungalows, though I have never seen one in actual use. Good examples are to be seen in the ruins of the historical Residency at Lucknow; and it was within them that many of the women and children were sheltered during the memorable siege. They can, of course, be ventilated only from above; but there can be no doubt that they are cooler than rooms above ground, and it is possible that the principle might be adopted with advantage under certain extreme climatic conditions.

The materials appropriate for house-building necessarily vary according to the character of the climate, but it is desirable to consider briefly the advantages and disadvantages of those in most common use. Taking first the structure of the walls, it may be noted that in rainy climates near the coast, where very high temperatures are seldom registered, the materials can hardly be too flimsy and permeable; but as one recedes from the coast and meets with the extreme climates characteristic of the interior of continents, it will be found that the buildings become progressively more massive; so that while the Bengali or Malay inhabits a shanty formed of thatch and matting, the peasant of the Punjab shelters himself within mud halls some two feet thick. These differences in domestic architecture are the necessary outcome of differing environment, and to be comfortable, European houses must be built of very much the same materials as those of the natives around them.

In dry climates, sun-dried bricks make an excellent wall, which resists heat even better than one of burnt brick, and provided it be protected from rain, it is wonderfully permanent and much stronger than would be expected; so that heavy, terraced roofs are easily carried by a two-feet thickness of this material, and they are even quite adequate to sustain a second story of lighter materials. The great drawback of the material is that it forms a favourite haunt for white ants, which tunnel it in all directions; but this can easily be obviated by introducing, just at the floor level, a single course of some damp and insect-proof material, such as burnt brick, laid on cement and tarred. Owing to its extreme cheapness a large house can be built for the same expenditure as a small one of burned brick, and as air space is of the greatest importance in hot climates, it is unfortunate that this material is not more utilised in Government buildings.

Flooring.

—The most suitable material is stone flagging, marble, of course, being preferable. After these come hard tiles, brick on edge, and cement, in order of desirability. Besides these there are, of course, various special modern inventions, but they hardly come into practical consideration, outside large seaports. Wooden floors should be generally avoided, as owing to decay and the attacks of insects, they are apt to become dangerous, and may give way unexpectedly at any time. For upper floors, by far the most suitable material is the narrow brick arch supported on steel girders, which are now so generally obtainable and cheap, that they can be economically substituted for wooden beams in any locality tolerably accessible from a railway.

One great advantage of this form of construction of flooring and terraced roofs, is the entire absence of nooks and crannies which can harbour vermin, for even the equally massive roofs of concrete, laid on flat tiles supported by a system of beams and battens, afford most dangerous refuges for disagreeable intruders, and I well remember an inmate of my house being put to intense suffering on two successive nights by vermin that fell from such a roof; the first disturber of our rest being an enormous centipede, and the second a hornet. For the same reason, all cornices and similar architectural adornments are distinctly to be deprecated.

The roofing materials generally employed in tropical countries are thatch, tiling, terraced constructions, and corrugated iron. Thatch is, from many points of view, an excellent material, as while it favours ventilation by being extremely pervious to air, it gives excellent shelter from rain, and is quite unequalled as a protection against the sun; in addition to which it does not, to any appreciable extent, throw out into the house during the night the heat absorbed during the day.

With all this, it has great and, it is to be feared, preponderating disadvantages, the principal of which is that it forms a perfectly ideal refuge for vermin of all sorts, vertebrate and invertebrate. As a rule, owing to the high pitch necessary in this form of roofing, the lower edge of the roof is rarely more than a few feet from the ground, and owing to the usual existence of creepers, trellises and similar facilities, is usually easily accessible to any animal endowed with the most moderate powers of climbing. Owing to this, such roofs are usually honeycombed with the nests of squirrels, rats, civet cats, and half wild domestic cats, to say nothing of snakes, and birds and other flying things. The large empty space between the ceilings and the rafters is usually alive with bats, and as all this extensive population is quite without any system of conservancy, an old thatched roof is simply permeated with guano; and the emanations from this necessarily find their way into the house, and indeed are always plainly perceptible in a thatched house that, for any reason, has been shut up for any length of time.

Besides this, the substance of the thatching is always slowly decomposing under the slow action of mildew, and this adds further musty exhalations to the bouquet. Hence, if used at all, the thatch should be completely renewed at frequent intervals, and its employment should be confined to situations which cannot be scaled by large vertebrate vermin.

Where it is used, the interior of the rooms should be completely cut off from the cavity of the roof by some fairly impervious ceiling, such as one formed of match-boarding, and not, as is commonly the case, by a “ceiling cloth” of ill-stretched canvas.

These “ceiling cloths” are utter abominations, and, even when their untidy appearance is ameliorated by subdividing the cloth into a number of small panels, the improvement is purely one of appearance, and in no way diminishes their sanitary defects, so that no effort should be spared to induce landlords to replace them with match-boarding or any material that will shut out the emanations from the thatch and its inhabitants.

For some reason, the lath-and-plaster ceilings and partitions, so commonly used in Europe, are never employed in Indian house-building. It is difficult to understand why this is so, as the natives are skilful plasterers, and there would be no difficulty whatever in teaching them this particular application of their trade, which would be a valuable and inexpensive expedient in this and a number of other cases.

Tiles of the old-fashioned sort present few of the advantages of thatch, and most of its disadvantages, besides numerous special objections of their own, but these remarks do not apply to roofs formed of large tiles of European patterns laid on a properly graded framework of squared battens. To these latter the only objection is that they let in too much heat unless they are supplemented with a tolerably substantial ceiling; and the same remarks apply even more to corrugated iron, but both these materials, and especially tiles, are excellent materials for verandahs, especially those of upper stories, where weight is a consideration.

Corrugated iron, however, is scarcely tolerable in extreme climates unless it is actually doubled, and the most scientific way of doing this is to form a ceiling of corrugated iron of a thin gauge screwed up to light joists and painted white below. On the upper surface, should be spread about an inch of dry sand, to retain which it is necessary that any ventilation openings should be protected with a wooden edging. The outer roof should be of stouter gauge, and must of course be pitched at an appropriate slope, and it is of the first importance that the space between the two roofs should be freely ventilated by large openings placed at the apices of the gables, but these openings should be secured against the entry of birds and cats by means of wire netting, and all other openings by which they can enter should be carefully closed with plaster. The coolness of a roof so planned depends largely on the thickness of the layer of dry sand, and, provided the joists that carry the sheets are fairly strong, there is no difficulty in raising this to even a couple of inches. The preceding materials all have the disadvantage that they must be pitched at a considerable slope, and hence cannot be used as a platform for sleeping on.

All considered, however, a terraced roof, formed of brick arches supported on steel girders, covered with concrete, is by far the best for most tropical climates. It forms an excellent protection against sun and rain, and the smooth finish of both its upper and lower surfaces offers absolutely no hiding place for even insects; besides which it forms an excellent elevated platform on which to sleep during periods of intense dry heat. Its one disadvantage is that a great deal of the heat absorbed during the day is radiated into the rooms at night, and that it generally is inferior as a non-conductor either to thatch, or to double roofs of any description.

Another form of terraced roof commonly found in dry climates consists of a considerable thickness of beaten clay, spread on mats supported on a system of beams and battens.

Owing to their great thickness and the fact that the clay conducts heat much less easily than burnt bricks, such roofs are very cool, and they form a good sleeping platform; but they give endless trouble during periods of rain, as they always leak at the beginning of one, and vermin are apt to harbour amongst the matting and battens that carry the mud. Owing to their immense weight, too, they are not free from danger, especially as they are usually found in combination with walls of unburnt brick, which offer no obstacle whatever to the tunnelling of white ants, which thus can readily reach the beams, the interior of which may be entirely eaten away by these mischievous insects without any sign of the mischief appearing externally.

All the above considerations appear at first sight tolerably obvious and would, one would think, be adopted wherever not rendered impracticable by consideration of cost, and yet it is perfectly wonderful to notice how frequently every consideration of common-sense sanitation and comfort is ignored in buildings, on which neither space nor expense have been stinted.

Quite recently the writer halted in a large hotel which illustrated this point in a most pitiable manner. The masonry was admirable, being worthy almost of an Egyptian monument, and speaking generally, it was obvious that expense had been almost disregarded by the enterprising proprietors. The management showed every desire to secure the comfort of their guests, and the cuisine was excellent. In spite of this the bulk of the rooms were scarcely habitable, as they seemed contrived to give a tropical sun the best possible chance to make itself felt. Save for a verandah of paltry width to the magnificent dining-room, these indispensable adjuncts of a tropical residence were absolutely wanting.

Moreover, this omission was clearly not due to any desire or necessity for economising space, for the area absolutely wasted in the form of corridors was astonishing, and could not have fallen short of half the space occupied by the sleeping rooms, though these were exceptionally spacious. Facing south-east, the full glare of the sun and the dazzling reflection from the sea glared directly into the windows of the most desirably placed rooms, without even the protection of an ordinary “jalousie,” while the magnificent view was shut out by windows of granulated greenish glass, the sashes being pivoted in such a way as to make it difficult to enjoy either the breeze or the prospect, even when they were opened. Apart from these latter details, the building would be admirably adapted for the accommodation of winter visitors in Italy, where the sun is made to do duty for artificial heat, and the whole is a striking example of the way in which the most lavish expenditure may be rendered futile by a want of due appreciation of the principles that should govern tropical domestic architecture. I give this instance mainly to show that, however self-evident the principles described above may appear, they are far from being generally appreciated.

These principles may be briefly epitomised as follows:—

(1) Through ventilation of all rooms.

(2) The elevation of all rooms, and especially of sleeping chambers, to as great a height as practicable above the ground.

(3) The selection of appropriate building materials which cannot harbour vermin.

(4) The shielding of outer walls from becoming heated by the direct rays of the sun by the provision of adequate verandahs.

(5) The application of the same principle to the construction of roofs by planning them so as to secure a well-ventilated air space between the actual roof and a fairly substantial ceiling, or by constructing them of massive materials, if single.

(6) The admission of sufficient light.

In the case of a house of moderate dimensions, these principles might be carried out as follows:—

Basement of brick arches ten feet high, including a low plinth and thickness of floor. These arches would be utilised for the accommodation of the kitchen, cook room, pantry, lamp room, store room, coach house, and well house, the well being placed beneath the house, and so well protected from any neighbouring fouling of the soil. The platform of the house supported on these arches would be pierced only by a concealed staircase for the use of the sweeper, but this would not be in communication with the other offices, though a hand lift might advantageously be arranged between kitchen and dining room. First floor 18 feet high-dining room, drawing room, office, and one or more bedrooms with dressing and bathrooms communicating with them, if large accommodation is required. Verandah all round not less than 10 feet wide. Second floor, 17 feet in height—principal bedrooms with dressing and bathrooms, some of the central rooms provided with terraced roof; the rest, together with the verandahs, with tiles of good pattern, the rooms having substantial ceilings. On terraced roof-large iron water-tank, with windmill to work force pump from well; small sleeping shelter, and protected with corrugated iron roof, supported on pillars.

It would be well to have the southern verandahs (in the northern hemispheres) of greater width than the others, and to place in them the stairs giving access to the second storey and to the roof.

The first floor would be reached by means of a flight of steps leading from the carriage drive, which might, if desired, be protected by a sloping porch. Such a house would, of course, be somewhat costly, but not much more so than one of equal accommodation constructed on the ordinary plan, and would undoubtedly be far more healthy than those of the usual type.

It is needless to remark that this imaginary residence would be completely protected against mosquitoes by means of metallic gauze, but the point is not dealt with here, as it is fully considered in the chapter on [the prevention of malaria].

CHAPTER II.
On Clothing.

The principles that should guide us in the contrivance of tropical costume may be epitomised in a single sentence. Keep the head cool and the abdomen warm:—and most of the costumes of the more civilised tropical races usually meet these requirements.

It is of course generally true that it is well in matters of costume to take as a general guide the habits of the inhabitants of the country we are visiting; but the recommendation cannot be taken too literally, as, apart from questions of cut and fashion, a too slavish imitation might be as hazardous to health as it would be fatal to decency, as there are places where the Paris fashions consist only of a hoop of cane or a liberal smearing of clay. Nor can the question be lightly solved by simply adopting lighter materials, as, in addition to adaptation to altered meteorological conditions, our dress should be so contrived as to afford protection against certain other dangers which are only indirectly the outcome of climatic conditions, notably against the attacks of mosquitoes, which are now known to be no mere irritating annoyances, but to undoubtedly serve as the carriers of several of the most deadly of tropical diseases.

Moreover, although very pleasant, it is by no means safe to knock about the house bare-footed in countries where scorpions and centipedes, to say nothing of poisonous snakes, are every-day vermin.

The “flannel next the skin” doctrine, too, is applicable only to those blessed with hides sufficiently phlegmatic to tolerate the material; and enthusiasts in its favour are apt to forget that our powers of resistance to extreme heat depend entirely on the healthy action of the skin, so that, if that important portion of our anatomy be kept in a condition of chronic inflammation by “prickly heat,” it must necessarily be more or less incapacitated from performing its proper functions.

The substratum of truth that underlies most doctrines, good, bad and indifferent, depends in this case on the fact that in hot climates it is especially important that clothing should be absorbent and porous; but, provided this be secured by the plan of manufacture, the nature of the fibre used is of little moment.

It must be admitted that the well-known Jaeger materials are in all respects admirable for all but the higher grades of atmospheric temperature, but when the thermometer gets up in the nineties, unadulterated wool becomes too irritating for the majority, and an admixture of silk, as in the so-called “Anglo-Indian gauze,” is preferable. Pure silk gets too easily sodden with perspiration, and in that state is too good a conductor of heat to form by itself a desirable material, but the combination of the two fibres forms an ideal material for wear during periods of excessive heat.

This material is necessarily rather costly, though it is surprisingly strong in proportion to its weight, and with ordinary care in washing lasts a long time, whereas the cheaper material of mixed cotton and wool is apt to shrink, and hence requires to be frequently replaced.

All materials into the composition of which wool enters, require great care in washing if they are to retain the properties which render them, in one form or another, so valuable in all climates. It need hardly be pointed out that they are at once hopelessly spoiled by a short immersion in boiling, or even very hot water. For the frequently changed garments of European residents of the Tropics little else is required than immersion and rinsing about in luke-warm or cold soap and water, and there is rarely need to guard against their being spoiled by heat, as neither soap nor hot water are much used by persons following the trade of washing in semi-civilised lands; but the severe beating and manipulation to which they subject everything that comes into their hands is almost as effectual in felting and spoiling woollen goods as great heat. It is pretty well impossible to induce a native to so alter his methods as to wash such articles in the orthodox European fashion, unless, indeed, one were disposed to occupy one’s time in personally superintending the process; but by cautioning against rough and excessive manipulation, and steadily refusing to pay for articles spoiled, it is generally possible to minimise the evil.

While touching on the subject of the washing of clothes, it may be well to remark, that although personal superintendence of the process may be out of the question, it is certainly important to find out and inspect the place where the washing is done, which in such countries as India and China, and doubtless elsewhere, will too often be found to be some filthy stagnant pool, redolent with the accumulated dirt of all classes of the population. But for the powerful germ-killing powers of the tropical sun to which the articles are subjected in the process of drying, there can be no doubt that disease would be spread in this way much more frequently than is actually the case, but it will not do to trust this natural disinfection too far, and without counting suspected instances of the transmission of really serious diseases, there can be no doubt that the troublesome skin disease known as “dhobie’s itch,” is often contracted by Europeans in this way. The policy of sparing the imagination by shutting the eyes is, in this case again, a fallacy which may lead to considerable personal inconvenience and perhaps to danger.

If, as is not unfrequently the case, all the public washing places are undesirable, it is well worth while providing the simple arrangements required by natives following this calling within one’s own enclosure.

All that is required is a masonry platform about 6 feet square, connected by a channel with the well and enclosed with walls about a foot high, the whole being lined with cement. A short length of metal pipe, capable of being closed with a wooden plug, must be built into the wall at the lowest edge of the platform, so as to admit of the dirty water being drained off. A piece of smoothly-worked plank, about 4 feet by 2 feet, with rounded corrugations athwart it, formed like those of corrugated iron roofing on a smaller scale, is all the additional apparatus required, and I feel sure that these simple appliances would be found much more frequently within our compounds than they are, if Anglo-Indians in general had any idea of the filthy conditions under which their clothing is commonly washed. Of course, such a matter as the cleanliness of public washing places ought to be a matter of superintendence and regulation by the authorities, but as yet everything is usually left to individual initiative, and those who wish to protect themselves must take their own precautions.

A not uncommon mistake of persons making their first sally into these warm climates is to leave behind them all their everyday European apparel, under which circumstances the one or two old suits that were taken to see them through the chops of the Channel and “Bay” become most treasured possessions, for there are very few parts of the world where, at some season or another, our ordinary English outfit will not be found convenient and suitable. Even the “Equatorial Rowing Club” probably find it well to put on their sweaters on returning to Singapore, after a spurt along “the line.”

Within intertropical limits no doubt, the occasions on which the garb of temperate climates is required are rare, but everywhere outside them there are ample opportunities of comfortably wearing out clothing adapted to life in Europe. In the Northern Punjab one’s heaviest English clothing is required for two or three months in the year, while in South Africa the diurnal range of temperature is so great that a light overcoat is required after sunfall in the hottest time of the year, and even in the Persian Gulf stout woollen clothing is required from December to early March. A glance at the meteorological data furnished in the second part of the book devoted to climate, will give the best idea of what will be required, as it may be taken as certain that in any case where the mean monthly temperature approximates at any season to that of our native island, clothing appropriate to the corresponding season of the year will be desirable.

In choosing a costume for really hot weather it must be remembered that any material requiring to be starched is about as suitable for the purpose as mackintosh sheeting, because linen and cotton fabrics, starched and ironed, are, as long as they retain their appearance, quite as impervious to transpiration. After they have lost their stiffness their appearance is most objectionable and disgusting, and it is a fortunate circumstance that they become so soon sodden, as there can be no doubt, that but for this, their use would be clung to by the conservative Briton, far more than he is able to do.

For this reason the loss of popularity of late years of the old-fashioned white “American drill” clothing, once universally adopted, is hardly to be regretted. Without a considerable amount of starching they never looked fresh after an hour or two’s wear, and with it the material ceased to be suitable. It is, indeed, a mistake to provide oneself with clothing of this sort in England, as even “American drill” of the right sort, cannot be obtained, and the light cotton tweeds and checks which are now in use in India do not appear to be found in the home market. It is, of course, necessary to obtain two or three suits for use on the outward voyage, but to obtain more than this, is only to burden oneself with what will, as likely as not, prove to be useless, and perhaps noticeably out of the fashion of the country.

A few shirts of soft cotton “twilled lining,” made with turned down collars, like a cricketing shirt, perhaps three pairs of white drill trousers (the material used by merchant seamen and known as “Dungaree” is the most suitable) and an alpaca coat and waistcoat will suffice. Unless one belongs to the clerical profession, the alpaca should be fawn-coloured, or, at any rate, not black, as in this colour the material is a sort of badge of missionary enterprise, and it is embarrassing to be asked to conduct service on the main deck, under false pretences. For the sub-tropical portion of the voyage, light flannel suits, made with as little lining as possible, are most suitable, and will prove useful, in any warm climate, at certain seasons of the year.

In really hot weather, however, if thin enough to be cool, flannel becomes too flimsy to serve for outer garments, and one is practically restricted to cotton fabrics. Of late years a variety of cotton materials have been made in India in imitation of the woollen tweeds in general use in Europe, and have the great advantage that the little deception is all the better maintained if they are kept unstarched.

Without desiring to furnish a gratuitous advertisement to any individual enterprise, missionary or otherwise, I see no harm in mentioning that I have met with no fabrics so suitable for tropical wear as those manufactured by the admirable Basel Mission at Cannanore, and though their energies are presumably mostly confined to the Indian market, I have little doubt they would export parcels if asked to do so.

They have shown great ingenuity in contriving light porous materials, almost indistinguishable at a short distance from those to which we are accustomed at home, and there can be no doubt that the short-fibred Indian cotton possesses certain properties that cause materials manufactured from it to be softer and more absorbent than those made from the harder and longer American fibre. At any rate I can account in no other way for the marked difference that exists between the fabric known as “twilled lining,” manufactured in Cawnpore, and what appears to the eye the same article obtained in England, though the latter is by no means to be despised.

It is but ten or twelve years since some bold innovator made the discovery that the cheap and despised “twilled lining” formed an admirable underwear for hot climates, and whoever he may have been, he was certainly a great benefactor to the Anglo-tropical community, for none of the numerous expensive patent materials that have from time to time been brought out, combine the same good qualities to anything like the same degree. It absorbs moisture quite as well as flannel of the same substance, and can be comfortably tolerated by the most irritable skin, while I doubt if it exposes one to greater danger of chilling than any other material of like weight. It can be safely worn next the skin without the intervention of a vest, which is indispensable with the ordinary starched linen shirt, and is, all considered, the best material for shirts, and for pyjamas for night wear, as various striped patterns are made specially suitable for the latter purpose. While speaking of night clothes, it may be well to remark that the ordinary pattern of short coat, commonly worn with pyjamas, is a distinctly dangerous garment, as it is very liable to ruck up during sleep, and so leave exposed the abdominal organs, which are of all parts of the body the most vulnerable to chill. To leave any portion of the abdomen exposed for even a short time while at rest is an extremely hazardous matter, so that in place of the usual coat it is far better to wear a shirt which can be safely tucked into the pyjamas.

I was glad to hear, during a recent visit to India, that the rational and cleanly custom of adopting white for evening dress was again coming into vogue, for even the lightest cloth clothing is undesirably hot, and the idea of wearing, night after night, garments which cannot be washed, in a climate so productive of perspiration, is, to say the least of it, somewhat repulsive.

It is, I understand, now the custom to have them cut after the pattern of the now almost universal “dress jacket,” but it is probably better to have them made by an English tailor of white drill, when fitting out, as the cut of the native workman is hardly to be relied on, though he may be trusted fairly well for nether garments. A broad silk sash or kamarband is usually substituted for the waistcoat; and to protect the ankles from the attacks of mosquitoes, which bite easily through a thin sock, it is a good anti-malarial precaution to have the trousers fitted with straps.

For riding, either stout khaki drill or the admirable cotton cords made at Cannanore are most suitable, and they are best cut after the pattern of the very handy “Puttialla” breeches, in which the breeches are prolonged below the knee into a closely fitting extension formed like a gaiter, as this does away with the necessity of wearing the very hot and unsanitary long boot. These garments would also be very useful, either at the Cape on account of ticks, or in parts of Burmah and Assam as a protection against leeches, as in both these, and no doubt in many other localities, these pests swarm so amongst the herbage that it is impossible to go abroad in ordinary trousers unless they be tucked into the socks. It is true that knickerbockers and long stockings will serve the same purpose, but few can bear the irritation caused by stockings thick enough to be worn in this way, in climates of this sort.

Another very suitable class of material for outer garments is to be found in the coarse wild silk that is met with and manufactured in parts of India, under the name of Tussur serge, and I have no doubt that many other parts of the world produce materials equally adaptable to our needs.

The matter of head covering requires special consideration, as there is a quite unaccountable difference as to the risk of sunstroke in climates which, as judged by the thermometer and the brilliancy of the sunlight, appear quite similar.

Accidents of this sort are almost unknown at the Cape of Good Hope; even as far north as Natal, and throughout our colonies there, and I believe also in America and Australia, a broad-leaved felt hat appears to afford quite adequate protection, always provided that it be not looped up in the idiotic “smartness” of an Imperial yeoman’s headgear. It is wonderful, too, how European officers contrive to go about in Egypt in the singularly unpractical “fez,” which, save as a protection for the bald within the house, appears about the most ill-contrived headgear yet contrived.

To wear one in June in most parts of India, would be certain death to the majority of Europeans, and few could venture to wear it at any time of the year.

For India, however, and other climates where sunstroke is common, a good sun-hat is indispensable, and there is undoubtedly no material that at all equals pith or solah for the purpose; and the bigger, the thicker, and uglier, the better it is for the purpose. Thick stiffened felt also answers very well, but is not reliable under extreme conditions, unless made double with an intervening air space throughout. Whatever the material, it is essential that the interior should be well ventilated, and this is most efficiently secured by the hat itself being attached to a comparatively narrow band that encircles the head, by the means of a few widely separated pieces of cork; no lining or other material being allowed to obstruct the passage of air.

The ordinary brass bound eyelet holes and squat top ventilator, so often seen in home-made “helmets,” are generally, for all practical purposes, absolutely useless.

Of the various shapes of solah hat in use, I am inclined to think the “Cawnpore tent club hat” is the best. This is made with the brim almost horizontal in front so as not to interfere with vision, and well sloped elsewhere, and is quite comfortable to ride, shoot, or work in. It has been adopted for the troops for tropical field service, but is I notice, already commencing to undergo evolution in the direction of smart inefficiency so dear to the heart of the military milliner.

Constructed as they are of strips of pith glued together, solah hats naturally go to pieces in rainy weather, but this can be obviated by covering with some waterproof material instead of the alpaca, or brown holland, usually used. The padded and quilted coverings to solah hats sometimes seen are absurd, as quilted cotton is far inferior as a non-conductor of heat to a similar thickness of pith, and the padding greatly increases the weight of the head gear.

In case of emergency, the oriental pugaree or turban is a very fair protection, though it requires a good deal of practice to tie it properly. Five or six yards of coarse muslin can, however, be got even in small native towns, and such accidents as one’s hat blowing out of a railway carriage, or off the head into a river, may occur to any one, so that the expedient may obviate one’s either incurring considerable risk, or submitting to the alternative of returning with one’s errand unperformed.

Many persons are well nigh as sensitive to insolation of the spine as of the brain, and suffer at once from the exposure of the back to the sun’s rays. I have never personally experienced inconvenience on this score, but know that many find that the sun playing on this part of the person causes a dull, heavy aching:—an oppression rather than pain. Persons subject to such symptoms should wear a broad pad of the same material as the coat, thickly padded with cotton wool. The pad should not form part of the coat, but be made separately to button on, as it is cooler worn thus. Turning to the opposite extremity of the body, it must be admitted that, owing to the entire want of ventilation, our European foot gear is very unsuited for use in hot climates. Every one knows the discomfort that is caused by boots that “draw” the feet, and these symptoms are entirely caused by the comparative imperviousness of leather, as is clearly shown by the greater discomfort caused by patent leather, which is practically air-proof. On this account, shoes are more generally useful than boots, though the latter are required for shooting, or work in the jungle; as shoes do not sufficiently protect the ankle from thorns, or the possible attacks of a snake. During the hot weather, the most comfortable form of foot-gear is a canvas shoe, but as made by the ordinary English shoemaker with leather lining and elaborate leather toe-caps and cross straps, they present no real advantages over an ordinary leather shoe. They should be made of stout but open woven canvas, with no lining except over the stiffener at the heel, and quite without toe-caps or other ornamentation; though the sole should be as stout as that of an ordinary walking shoe, and it is better to choose a brown canvas, as the “blanco” used for giving a clean appearance to white canvas, soon fills up the pores of the fabric and makes it almost as impervious as leather. The Persians wear a sort of ankle boot, the upper of which is formed of knitted twine, and these “málikis,” made up on an European last, form ideal “uppers” for hot climates, for they are admirably porous, though so strong that they will outlast half-a-dozen leather “uppers.” Can not our European manufacturers devise something similar? In hot wet weather, it is a mistake to try to keep the water out, as the sock, if enclosed in a water-tight boot, will very soon become so saturated with perspiration that one has simply subjected oneself to heat and discomfort to no purpose. Whether for rainy weather, or for wading after snipe, or when fishing, the only desideratum is that the water should be able to ran out as easily as it gets in. Provided that clothing is changed as soon as one gets into shelter, no harm need be feared from getting either clothing or the feet wet, as long as one is on the move, in the climates with which we have to do. For the same reason the advantages of a waterproof are very doubtful, the fact being that, with a combination of heat and rain, one is bound to get wet anyhow, and whether the moisture comes from the outside or the inside of our garments is a matter of little moment. One other point in connection with foot-gear remains to be noticed, and that is that as one’s feet and hands become a full size larger under tropical conditions, it is necessary that those included in our outfit should be full large; for a shoe so loose as to be almost slipshod in England, will be found to be quite tight when tried on in India. The best way is not to confuse your shoemaker with directions, but to put on a couple of pairs of thick woollen socks and get measured over them.

At night, the main object is to have as little in contact with the skin as possible, so that mattresses of all sorts are best put aside during the hot months and a smooth mat substituted. Most tropical races actually prefer to sleep on a hard surface, such as the floor, during periods of heat, and though few Europeans can habituate themselves to so hard a couch, the majority prefer a cot formed of tightly strained cordage or webbing to the more modern spring bed of woven wire, the yielding character of which causes the surface laid upon to follow too closely the curves of the body. Personally, I prefer the woven wire, covered only with a loosely-made reed mat. Costing only a few pence, such mats may be frequently renewed, and they are far cooler than the fine and closely-woven “China” mats, which are rather costly, and in the finest quality almost impervious to air.

Assuming that one is properly protected against mosquitoes, the feet and chest may be left bare, but a light blanket or rug, folded to about 2 feet wide, should be thrown across the abdomen, as nothing is more dangerous than chill to this portion of the body.

Ladies’ costume lends itself more readily to coolness than that of the sterner sex, though its advantages are usually thrown away, by their obstinate adherence to the corset, a garment which is even more pernicious in hot climates than elsewhere. Apart from this, their most common mistake is to err on the side of over-coolness, and medical men who practise in the Tropics are constantly meeting with serious and obstinate cases arising from inadequate protection to the abdominal and pelvic organs.

Ladies too often expose the head to the sun in a most foolhardy way. It may be admitted that a safe sun-hat is not particularly becoming to either sex, but in the presence of the girl graduate, often surpassing her male competitors, no one can doubt that a substratum of brains underlies the golden hair, and this being admitted, it is clearly morally incumbent on ladies not only to make themselves attractive, but to take proper care of thinking organs of such high quality. Besides, a woman with a headache is seldom charming, and a very genuine one—no mere boredom—is too often contracted by the conscientious performance of the quasi-religious duty of paying calls at noon in a picture hat.

Even where a covered conveyance is available—and many of us do not run to anything more ambitious than a dog-cart in the East—it is quite possible to contract a headache in crossing a pavement, and when a lady drives herself, it is almost impossible for her groom to so hold an umbrella over her as to afford protection, without obstructing her view. On this account, it is better that on such expeditions she should submit to be driven, so that she may have her hands free to carry an umbrella or sunshade; and it is well to remember that a fairly large sunshade with a padded cover is really more efficient than the largest single umbrella, or even one provided with the customary thin outer white cover.

Mothers have a general tendency to overclothe their children. Provided that the abdomen be properly protected by a flannel “binder,” the less they are hampered during the day the better. A child’s extremities rapidly become clammy if it be inadequately clothed, and as long as these feel comfortably warm, nothing but harm can result from stifling them with coverings which cause prickly heat, with attendant loss of rest and all the evils that result from chronic nervous irritation. Above all things, the face should never be covered, even with a handkerchief, in the case of the youngest of infants; as this pernicious fad of nurses and mothers necessarily leads to the rebreathing of air already rendered impure by passing through the lungs, than which few things are more destructive to health, even in adults, let alone in an infant, where the rapid chemical changes involved in growth and development demand a supply of oxygen proportionately far in excess of that required by a grown-up person.

In children much troubled with prickly heat, who have reached the age of intelligence, a pair of silk drawers should be worn under the binder; and during the day, and at night under the mosquito net, nothing more than this is really required. At dusk, when they go out for their airing, and at any time when mosquitoes are in evidence, their costume should be contrived so as to protect them from the attacks of the insects as far as possible.

In countries where ophthalmia is common, protection from flies during the day is almost as essential as against mosquitoes at night, and if the child falls asleep it should at once be placed under a mosquito net, as the eyes of children seem to have a peculiar attraction for flies, and there can be no doubt that these insects are often instrumental in carrying infectious matter from the eyes of the diseased to those of the healthy.

CHAPTER III.
On Water and Food.

The importance of attention to personal hygiene in the matter of what to eat, drink and avoid, may be judged by the fact that three of the greatest scourges of tropical life—cholera, dysentery, and typhoid fever—are conveyed exclusively by the agency of germs that find their way into the body along with ordinary articles of diet; and even putting aside diseases of so dramatically striking a character, bad food, careless cooking, and impure water may set up such minor troubles as dyspepsia, with all its prolonged attendant miseries of body and mind. Those who do not die from an attack of cholera or typhoid usually recover fairly completely, but he who has once suffered from a bad attack of dysentery is as truly lamed for life as if he had suffered mutilation of a limb.

Accidents will, of course, occur, whereby the most careful precautions are frustrated, but putting aside such contingencies, it is quite possible to guard oneself against either of the above diseases by proper care and attention; and those who know how to take care of themselves may carry on their duty, with but little apprehension, while encamped in the midst of a cholera epidemic, which makes it no uncommon occurrence to find in the morning several pilgrims dead of the disease within a few yards of one’s tent. On one occasion, my camp arriving after dusk, I found in the morning that my tent had actually been pitched over a new-made grave; but cholera cannot be caught by proximity to either the dead or dying, but only by the fouling of what enters the mouth, so that I was more disgusted than alarmed at the gruesome discovery; whereas I should have been decidedly uneasy for the next day or so, had I discovered that I had unwittingly swallowed either water or food that had not been rendered harmless by cooking. There is one point, moreover, about the necessary precautions, and that is that they must be carried out, or at least superintended, personally; for neither natives nor even the lower class of Europeans can be trusted to carry them out, because, not understanding the reason of them, they are too apt to scamp the business; and, as a matter of fact, neglect that would discredit a native dairyman has more than once, to the writer’s knowledge, occurred in regimental dairies, where every operation was supposed to be either conducted or superintended by European soldiers.

One of these little incidents, due to sheer laziness and direct neglect of duty, cost nearly fifty lives, for it more than decimated the wing of the corps in which it occurred. The method in which this terrible catastrophe was brought about is worthy of record, as an instance of the way in which lives are sacrificed by a lack of attention to such details.

The water supply of the station was excellent and all water used in the dairy was supposed to be drawn from a standpost. Unfortunately, there was a well on the dairy premises, and the soldiers in charge were too lazy to prevent its being used. One of the native dairymen lived in a village which was attacked with cholera, and like all Hindoos, had a special vessel for drinking water. This vessel he used, of course, at home, and also during the day, to get himself a drink from the well in the dairy. He remained himself free from disease, but the germs of cholera were carried, adhering to his lotah, or drinking cup, from the infected village well, to the dairy well, and this, in its turn, infected the milk stored in vessels which had been washed in the well water, with the terrible results already described.

The remote fault, of course, in this case lay with the authorities, who should have seen that no alternative, and more easily obtained, water supply was available; for no one who knew much about either the native, or Tommy Atkins would have any doubt of the less laborious source of water supply being used the moment the eye of authority was off them. As a matter of fact, the quality of the well water was usually excellent, and its only fault, that it was not guarded against contamination, so that not understanding the subtle mechanism of infection, both soldier and native naturally regarded the journey to the more distant standpost as a mere unreasonable infliction.

The piped water supply ought, of course, to have been brought into every room of the dairy, but “spoiling the ship for a pennorth of paint” is a very common cause of failure in attempts at sanitary reform in India.

I have given this incident at some length, because it affords a good example of the way in which lives are sacrificed by a want of attention to the details of sanitary management, and because, although it occurred in a public institution, and the fatality was on a correspondingly large scale, it is an equally good illustration of the way in which infection finds its way into private households.

Let us now proceed to the consideration of the various articles of supply, commencing with water.

As a rule, in our dependencies and settlements, water supply is of a private character, as only a few of the larger towns enjoy the advantages of public waterworks. Even where this is the case too, it is not always safe to trust entirely to its purity, as in many places the arrangements are not such as to ensure safety, and it is only in towns where the waterworks are large modern instalments, with proper filter-beds, under the constant supervision of an adequate European staff, that it is safe to forego the systematic sterilising of the water. In India, for instance, while the supply of Allahabad, Cawnpore, Lucknow, and most of the other large towns is probably a great deal above the European average, the mere fact of the supply being laid on in pipes is by no means a guarantee of purity. In Naini Thal, a considerable hill station, for example, the supply is pumped directly from a lake without filtering, close to the spot at which the drainage of a filthy native bazaar is allowed to flow into it. When living, then, in a place where there is a piped water supply, it is well to ascertain if filtration is properly carried out, and if not, to treat the water with the same suspicion as that derived from any other doubtful source.

Where water of undeniable purity is laid on, all that has to be attended to is the method of transport from the nearest standpost to the house, for it is as yet extremely exceptional for pipes to be carried right into buildings as is the practice in Europe, so that a special servant as a water-carrier is still a necessity in India, even in large towns. In this case, and indeed whatever may be the source of supply, it is of the greatest importance that nothing but metal vessels, so constructed as to be easily cleaned, should on any account be used. In all Mahomedan countries, water is conveyed in a goat or calf skin, stripped from the animal entire, with the legs tied up, and filled from the neck, which is secured with a thong for transport; and it is a most unfortunate circumstance that it has become traditional for Europeans to employ the Mahomedan bhisti with his mashak instead of the more cleanly Hindu kahar with his easily cleansed iron water vessel, for the Mahomedan water-skin or mashak is an abomination that cannot be too strongly condemned. Few will, it is thought, deny that if a piece of half-tanned hide were found lying in water intended for domestic uses, they would at once reject it; and apart from the objectionable character of the material of the mashak, it must be remembered that from its construction it is absolutely impossible to clean the interior; and this must necessarily become foul in the course of a few days’ use, even if it were constructed of silver instead of half-dressed hide. Added to this, it has been ascertained, by actual experiment, that disease germs, deposited on the outside of a water-skin, are capable of growing into and working through it, and so continuously contaminating the contained water. Anyone who knows the ways of the bhisti must be familiar with the careless way in which his mashak is laid down on the ground anywhere that may come handy, so that it cannot fail to get frequently fouled with germs of all sorts, which, owing to the vessel being composed of organic material, find themselves at once placed on a “culture medium” as congenial to their growth as if prepared in a laboratory.

The above reasons, it is thought, should suffice to show that no leather vessel should on any account be tolerated in connection with our water supply, and it may be added that there is no difficulty whatever in substituting cleanly metal buckets for the abominable filth trap that has just been described.

While the Hindu holds the wholesome belief that contact with leather means utter defilement to water, and would very probably die at the stake rather than drink from a mashak; the use of the latter by the Mahomedan is purely a matter of custom, in no way connected with religious sanction, so that in hospitals too small to afford a double establishment, a Hindu water-man alone is entertained, because no Mahomedan can object on the score of religion to taking water from any cleanly vessel or from any one’s hands, so that though a bhisti can serve the Mahomedan alone, a kahar can serve both castes.

For many years before leaving India the writer insisted on the use of metal buckets for carrying his household water, a pair being carried slung from the ends of a bamboo balanced on the shoulder; and it never became necessary to dismiss the Mahomedan water-carrier, as he always proved ready to adopt the change, as soon as he discovered one was in earnest in the matter, and that any infraction of the rules meant instant dismissal.

There are no more hard-working and better servants in India than the bhistis, who are deservedly, as a body, great favourites with the European community, ever ready to put their hand to anything. One who once served me for several years used often to act as factotum on short expeditions, cooking my food and waiting at table, and finally, as no groom was available at the last moment, marched one of my horses from one end of the Punjab to the other by himself, and brought it in in good condition. With willing and obliging men of this sort, it is naturally easy, by a little insistence, to ensure the adoption of any plan that does not actually clash with their religious beliefs—and I can assure my Anglo-Indian readers that they, too, will meet with no difficulty in introducing this important reform, provided they show clearly from the first that they mean to be obeyed. It is rarely even necessary to threaten to entertain a Hindoo paniwalla in the bhisti’s place, for as a race they are of the most amenable.

Putting aside public water supplies, the usual sources are wells, rivers and springs. Of these, the first are, in most parts of the world, the most common form of private water supply, and, speaking generally, they are by far the most reliable, for save in most exceptional cases, the pollution of a well always takes place from above. It is, of course, most desirable that the upper part of the well tube should be lined with impervious cement, but provided a reasonable amount of care be taken to prevent the surface of the ground near the well becoming fouled, little danger is to be apprehended from dirty surface water gaining admission to the well, for there are few better filters than a few feet of ordinary soil. The ordinary filter, employed in large waterworks, consists of nothing more than a few feet of sand, and it is well known that, when in good working order, such filters rival even the Pasteur biscuit porcelain filter in their power of excluding germs.

Now to reach the interior of a well by any other route than through its mouth, water must needs pass through a much greater thickness of soil than is ever used for the filtration of water on a large scale, and hence, provided the mouth of a well be protected, its water may be used with the greatest confidence.

At first sight, it appears that nothing should be easier than to provide the well with a water-tight cover of some sort, and draw all water by means of a pump; and wherever the water lies sufficiently near the surface, and the means of keeping a pump in repair are at hand, there can be no doubt that there can be no better plan. Very often, however, wells are so deep as to necessitate the use of a force pump, in which case, unless long connecting rods are used, which are very apt to get out of order, the pumper has to work half-way down the well, a necessity which introduces new difficulties and dangers.

In places where pumps cannot be readily repaired, it is useless to attempt the adoption of this method of raising water, and one must trust to other means of protecting the supply. The mouth of the well should be raised a foot or two above the level of the ground by building a masonry drum, wide enough for the person drawing water to stand on, and well sloped, so that slopped water runs off, and not back into the well.

It is further highly important to protect the well from drifting leaves and dust, and also from being used by strangers and passers-by. This is most easily effected by building a well-house over the mouth of the well, provided with a door, for even if this is not kept always locked, it at least serves as an intimation to outsiders that the well is not public property, which will probably be generally respected. As the well-house may be of the simplest material and construction, the cost of one need be no bar to the adoption of the plan; for the shelter will always be of small dimensions, and can be built with walls of sun-dried brick and a thatched roof, or even of grass screens throughout.

A single metal vessel and rope should be provided, which should never be removed from the well-house, and no other vessel should be permitted to be lowered into the well on any pretence; for the practice of each person carrying about his own drinking vessel and string provides the mechanism whereby cholera is carried from one place to another in the majority of outbreaks of that disease in India. If possible, only a single servant should be employed to draw water, and he should be provided with a padlock and instructed to keep the door locked. Very probably the door will often be left open, but it is something gained if it be locked for some hours in the day, as the fact of finding the door even sometimes locked will serve to show outsiders that the use of the well by them is regarded as a trespass.

Provided that the entry of leaves and other even more objectionable matters be prevented in this way, a well should require but little attention, though it may be useful to occasionally purify it, especially if it has been out of use for some time, by treatment with permanganate of potash in manner described below.

Where a well is persistently foul, it may be taken as certain that this is due to prolonged neglect and insufficient cleansing; for when, as is usually the case, no attempt is made to guard a well, so much dust and rubbish of all sorts gain admission that it requires to be emptied and thoroughly cleaned out, down to the soil in which it is excavated, at least once a year, and the expense of doing this will be found to be at least as great as the construction of a well-house of inexpensive materials. When the water of a well has been obviously offensive, the actual soil at the bottom of the well should be dug out for two or three feet, and fresh, clean river sand substituted. After the well has refilled, it should be treated once or twice with permanganate, and the water will then usually be found to be restored to good condition.

To purify a well by means of permanganate of potassium, take from 2 to 4 ounces of the chemical, according to the size of the well, the larger quantity being required only in the case of the enormous wells 10 to 12 feet wide that are occasionally met with; draw a bucketful of water and dissolve the permanganate in its contents by stirring with a stick. Lower the solution into the well, and flounce the bucket about in the water till the permanganate is thoroughly mixed. Permanganate attacks the organic matter present in the water, on which the disease germs and other micro-organisms feed, and so kills them by starvation, besides which the brown precipitate which is formed carries down with it much suspended matter. This process is of especial value in destroying the cholera microbe, and when moving about in camp, it is an excellent precaution to send on a man two days in advance to disinfect in this way the wells that will be used in each camp. If the amount of permanganate used be sufficient, the water should still retain a faint pink tinge after twenty-hours, and should have another day’s rest to settle before being again taken into use. The purer the water, the longer will the pink tinge persist, while on the other hand, the rapid disappearance of the colour is an indication of great foulness, and of the necessity for the application of a further supply of permanganate.

The water of large rivers is usually fairly reliable, provided the water be got from the full current and not from a backwater, but is often very turbid from fine sand and other mineral matter. In such cases, the water may be cleared by stirring it round with a crystal of alum; after which the suspended mineral matter will sink to the bottom in the course of an hour or so. The manner in which the alum acts is not clearly understood, as the amount dissolved is so small as to be insufficient to affect the taste of the water or to do any harm, even if it be consumed for a long period. The action of the alum, too, is far more efficient than that of any ordinary filter, completely clearing glacier-fed water turbid with particles of such extreme fineness that they will pass anything except the biscuit-porcelain, or Pasteur, filter. Alum may also be used for disinfecting wells when permanganate is not obtainable, about twice the weight of alum being used, but it is not as reliable; and in case of need, lime may be used, 40 or 50 lbs. of well-slaked lime being thrown into the well, and thoroughly mixed with the water by keeping it disturbed for some time.

The water of small pools and marshes should be avoided, and even springs should be regarded with suspicion, unless some idea can be formed as to the origin of the water. If this be from a deep source, it may of course, be safely used, but care must be taken not to mistake surface drainage that has oozed a short distance under ground for a true deep spring. Caution in this matter is especially necessary in hill country; and in doubtful cases it is well to get water analysed by an expert before adopting it as a permanent supply, for it is noteworthy that some springs of the highest reputation have been shown to be extremely impure, the sparkle of their waters being really due to their being charged with the gases of decomposition.

Not unfrequently, however, the tropical sojourner has no choice as to his water supply, and must make the best of perhaps a very bad source. Under such circumstances, all water used for drinking, or in the preparation of food, must be specially treated so as to remove or destroy any of the germs of disease which it may contain. It is desirable, though very difficult, to treat water used for bathing in the same way, but as a rule, one has to be content with taking every precaution against such water entering the mouth.

Ordinary filters, it must be clearly understood, are not only useless, but even worse; for the moist filtering agent, clogged as it is with the coarse organic and inorganic débris that it has strained out of the water, is quite capable of acting as a cultivating medium for microbes, on which they can multiply so enormously that however clear the water may appear to the eye when it issues, its really dangerous impurity, so far from being diminished, has been enormously increased. There is only one form of filter that can be trusted to remove the minute organisms that are the active agents in the propagation of disease, and that is that in which the water has to pass through a piece of biscuit porcelain, the pores of which are so excessively minute that even the smallest of the bacteria are excluded. The employment of such filters on a domestic scale is, however, extremely difficult, for they naturally act so slowly that a very large appliance must be used to secure an adequate supply. Added to this, their efficiency depends on the perfection of a number of rubber connections, a material which deteriorates very rapidly in hot climates, and except by the increased rapidity of flow, it is not very easy to detect the fault. In any case, they should never be used except under constant personal care, and one way and another, they require a good deal of attention; besides which they are heavy, and quite unsuitable for camp or travelling. On the other hand, boiling for a few minutes gives a security quite sufficient for practical purposes, and requires no more formidable appliances than an ordinary kettle or saucepan, which are available everywhere. I am perfectly aware that certain spores will sometimes survive the treatment recommended, but the objection is rather academical than real, and so far as I know, in the actual practice of daily life no instance of the conveyance of disease has ever been traced to the use of boiled water, so that I have always been accustomed to recommend the adoption of this plan in preference to all others, in all cases where the water supply is not absolutely above suspicion.

One caution, however, is necessary: always personally to see that the water boils; for, apart from absolute deception, servants often really do not know when water has actually reached the boil, as most housewives know from experience of the spoiling of their “dish of tea.”

There is no need to stand over the man and watch the process however. A portable stove should be brought into the verandah, and the servant should be instructed to let one know when it is boiling, so that a moment’s inspection suffices to satisfy one of the fact, which, after all, is not a very formidable addition to the day’s work.

The water should be covered so as to protect it from dust and insects, and put aside to cool. If a sorhai, or porous water bottle, be used for cooling, it should be frequently washed out with strong permanganate solution and occasionally boiled, as it is difficult to keep the interior of these vessels clean, on account of their rough surface, and impossible to see whether they are so or not. It should be remembered, too, that it is as essential to have pure water on the toilet table for cleaning the teeth, as it is for drinking purposes, as the quantity of poison introduced into the system is of comparatively little importance, in the case of the virus of infective diseases, which have the power of multiplying within the system.

When travelling, it is a good plan to have an ample supply of tea brought for the early morning meal, usually taken before dressing; and to use what is left for cleansing the mouth instead of water. After standing as it thus has, the tea contains a good deal of tannin, and so forms an excellent mild astringent mouth wash, which makes it in some respects an improvement on plain water.

By far the greater proportion of the water consumed by Europeans in hot countries is, however, drunk in the form of aerated waters, and very frequently little or no care is taken in their manufacture, even when it is carried out by European firms in a large way of business. There can be no doubt that where the business is conducted on a large commercial scale, the water used should have been passed through suitable bacteria-proof filters; but in one of the few instances I have met with where this was even professed to be done, the filtering plant was obviously absurdly inadequate to filter more than a small percentage of the supply turned out by the firm. If such is the case with large and responsible European concerns, the character of the article turned out by the small native factories can easily be imagined. It would be hopeless to expect much improvement from the latter, but if consumers insisted on a guarantee that the water had been sterilised, in the case of the European factories, there can be little doubt that, before long, a safe supply would be put on the market to meet the demand.

Of late years the practice of aerated waters being manufactured by clubs and regimental institutions has enormously increased, but it must be remembered that, except as regards the avoidance of the coarser grades of filth, there is little or no advantage in this, unless the water supply of the factory be religiously guarded against pollution. As in the case of small institutions the amount of European supervision that can be given is but small, it may be doubted if much is likely to be gained by any attempts to sterilise the water either by filtration through biscuit porcelain or by boiling. The difficulty of cooling the water is an insuperable obstacle to the adoption of the latter expedient on even as large a scale as is required for a small club, for to make good aerated beverages the water must be as cool as possible. Quite recently the writer went over a station factory to try and ascertain why the “soda” was so feeble. Installed in a corner was a bath warmer capable of warming some forty or fifty gallons of water sufficiently for bathing purposes, but quite incapable of boiling so large a quantity under any circumstances, and indeed, not constructed with the view of doing so. This appliance had been installed by some previous zealous reformer, with the view of sterilising the drinks of the station, but he had never been at the pains of ascertaining if it was really capable of bringing its contents to the boiling point.

The murder was out:—the club soda had been systematically made of luke-warm fluid, tainted with the indescribable flavour of half cooked water. At the well a number of bhistis were chattering with a wandering faqir; and if his lotah had not been let down, the last time it was used, into a cholera-infected well, it was no fault of the arrangements. As the health of the entire European community depends on the purity of this well it should surely be worth while to make some attempt to secure its purity. It is quite true that the building of a well-house with a locked door might not ensure the absolute exclusion of unauthorised intruders, but an occasional surprise visit would go far to ensure a very general, if not complete, obedience to orders; especially after detection of neglect on some occasion had been followed by prompt dismissal of the responsible servant, and after the prompt destruction of any unauthorised water skins found in the well house. It is no more difficult to secure the locking up of a well, than it is to check peculations of club stores, provided that equal attention be devoted to the matter. No one expects absolute success in either task, but there can be no doubt that ill-gotten gains are successfully reduced to a minimum in most well-managed institutions; and surely our lives are as important as the curtailing of our club bills to the extent of a few shillings per mensem. Besides, to put it on a mere commercial basis, an attack of typhoid is a most expensive luxury, even apart from its dangers. After all, a doctor and two trained nurses for a month, followed up by an unostentatious funeral, cost something, and a very small proportion of the energy that is devoted by zealous honorary secretaries to thwarting the efforts of the club “bearer” to appropriate kerosine would go far to keep a well free from pollution. In places where no reliable aerated water is obtainable, there is no longer any necessity of drinking the more than doubtful fluids bottled in some dirty corner of the bazaar, as there is no longer any necessity for any complicated plant for the purpose.

At the present day, carbonic acid, compressed in steel cylinders, can be obtained at all large centres, and the attachment for filling bottles costs so little, and the method of using it is so simple that there is no difficulty whatever in making aerated waters at home, no skill whatever being required in the process.

The germs of certain diseases, such as cholera, are killed by the prolonged action of carbonic acid under pressure, and on this account, it is a good plan to keep a stock of aerated waters for a week before using them, but it must be understood that this is no protection against many other diseases, the majority of their germs being unaffected by carbonic acid.

In the matter of food supply, the main points that require attention are that it should be not only well, but also thoroughly, cooked, as only in this way can the destruction of disease germs be secured. Further, cooked food put aside for subsequent consumption should always be carefully protected from the access of insects. No one who has noticed how flies are attracted by filth of all sorts, and their omnivorous liking for food of every kind, can doubt that they must necessarily occasionally befoul food with the filth on which they have been battening but a few moments before; and in all probability both cholera and typhoid fever are not unfrequently conveyed in this way. Many articles of food, such as soups, jellies, and milk puddings, form ideal “cultivating media” for disease germs, as their composition is practically the same as the materials that are artificially prepared for the purpose in the bacteriological laboratories; so that if food of this sort be accidentally inoculated by an insect fresh from feeding on some dangerous form of filth, it may, in a few hours, become a teeming mass of microbes of the most virulent character. On this account a liberal supply of wire gauze dish covers should always be provided by the careful housekeeper in the tropics, and no cold food should ever be put aside without being covered in this way, unless it be placed in a large safe constructed of the same material, of which one or two should form a part of the furnishing of every tropical house. For camp use, receptacles formed of strong, closely-meshed, hand-made cotton netting, kept extended by means of hoops of cane, are very useful, as they collapse and occupy little or no space on the march. It is almost needless to remark that a cool airy spot should be selected for the larder, and that all safes, covers, &c., should be scrubbed out at frequent intervals with soap and water, to which a little boracic acid may advantageously be added.

After these preliminary remarks it will be preferable to consider separately the selection and treatment of the principal articles of food.

Milk.

—Owing to the fact that, apart from the question of deliberate adulteration, a certain amount of the water used for cleansing and rinsing vessels, &c., generally gains access to milk, it is always open to contamination in the same way as the water supply; and as milk forms an excellent cultivating medium for many sorts of bacteria, their multiplication to a dangerous extent is a very easy matter, so that there is probably no article of food which is so often concerned in the transmission of disease.

The conditions under which cattle are stalled and the milk collected, in the more or less imperfectly civilised countries with which we are concerned, are usually filthy to a degree; and hence it may be laid down as an universal rule that unless one’s dairy is under one’s own personal supervision milk should always be either boiled or systematically “sterilised” before using. There are a number of excellent appliances in the market for sterilising milk, and as directions for their employment always accompany them, it is unnecessary to occupy space with any instructions as to their use.

Unfortunately it is by no means certain that boiled or sterilised milk is as wholesome and digestible as the natural untreated article, and that there is a distinct, and slightly disagreeable, alteration of taste cannot be denied. It has been asserted that infants fed exclusively on sterilised milk are liable to be attacked by a form of scurvy, though it does not appear quite established that the possible sophistication of the milk in other ways has been excluded in the instances that have been reported, and it is undeniable that large numbers of infants thrive excellently on milk so treated. In any case, the risks of harm accruing to either infants or adults from the use of sterilised milk are absurdly small in comparison with those with which they are threatened by the consumption of milk, produced under conditions over which no supervision can be exercised.

Apart, moreover, from the dangers of filth and infection, the milk supplied by native cow-keepers is nearly always of poor quality owing to niggardliness and ignorance in the feeding of the animals, which are either kept stalled under foully unsanitary conditions, or, on the other hand, may be left to wander about and pick up a living as best they can. When pressed by hunger, there is no fouler feeder than a cow, and it is a dismal fact that, in the polity of an Indian village, the cattle rival the pigs in their efficiency as scavengers, so that from the mere point of nicety it is well, whenever possible, to keep one’s own milch cattle. Cattle kept for milking should always be as carefully groomed and bedded down as one’s most valued horses, and before milking the udders and the hands of the milker should be carefully washed. When it is impossible to keep cows, there is often no difficulty in keeping goats, one or two of which will easily supply sufficient milk for use with tea, in which alone the altered flavour of boiled milk becomes disagreeably perceptible. Goats are extremely hardy, and being naturally clean feeders, require far less attention than cows, while the flavour of their milk in tea is preferred by many to that of cow’s milk. They stand marching well too, and are therefore better suited for use in camp; and as their favourite food is the leaves of bushes they may be trusted to find their living to a great extent as they trot along on their way from camp to camp. Usually their milk agrees excellently with infants, but there can be little doubt that asses’ milk is superior for this purpose.

It is quite a mistake to imagine that it is a sufficient precaution to have a cow brought to the house and milked in one’s presence. Various expedients are known to all cowkeepers whereby the richest part of the milk can be reserved for butter making, and apart from the knowledge of physiological facts which enables this to be done, the native cowkeeper is capable of performing certain small feats of legerdemain by which the milk may be pretty freely diluted under the very eyes of his European customer.

Well aware of the “sahibs’” absurd fad for cleanliness, a native cowkeeper I met with utilised our weakness in that respect to perform a very clever trick. He always brought with him a bowl of clean water, with which he ostentatiously washed the udders of the cow, and while milking, on the pretext that a cool hand was necessary for the process, he occasionally dipped his really well washed hands into the bowl. Hidden in the palm, however, was a piece of sponge, which was squeezed against the udder in the action of milking, so that its contents mingled with the milk as it jetted into the can, and by frequently repeating the cooling process, he was able to dilute the milk to a very profitable extent. It is well, therefore, to occasionally test the quality of milk, and this is better done by noting the depth of cream that rises in a given long, narrow glass, than by any of the so-called lactometers, as they really only test the specific gravity of the milk, as they afford no sure index of the amount of fatty matter present, and it is on this that the main nutritive properties of milk depends.

For the use of infants on voyages, unconcentrated sterilised milk should always be used, as it is much less altered by the process than is the case with the “condensed” article, even when the latter is honestly and carefully prepared. This, however, is far from being even generally the case, as very often the milk has been skimmed before concentration, and large numbers of cases of malnutrition among infants are due to this cause, as the material lends itself easily to the perpetration of despicable frauds of this sort, which appear to be sometimes practised even by large and much advertised concerns. In the case of unconcentrated sterilised milk on the other hand, the substitution of skim milk can be detected at a glance.

Butter.

—Containing as it does a considerable proportion of unaltered milk and whey, butter is open to the same dangers as the milk from which it is prepared, and it is therefore equally risky to obtain it from uncertain sources, so that, where these are doubtful, it is better to have it made in the house.

Butter can be easily made on a small scale, by shaking cream in a wide-mouthed bottle, or by beating it with a fork, and as it tastes none the worse for being made from boiled milk, and the poorness or otherwise of the latter only affects the yield of butter, there is no need of any great caution as to the source of supply for this purpose. It should be needless to remark that all vessels used for setting the cream and for other purposes in the process should be kept scrupulously clean, and be frequently scalded, as success is impossible without minute precautions in this respect.

Buffalo milk is nearly twice as rich as the milk of even the best humped cattle, and is therefore to be preferred for the purpose of making butter. There is a silly prejudice against the use of buffalo milk among Europeans in India, but it is really far superior to that supplied by the local breeds of cattle, even when well fed and carefully kept, and the only objection that can be fairly raised to butter made from it, is its absolute whiteness, which, however, is easily modified by the addition of a little harmless colouring matter. I have often been much amused at guests remarking on the excellence of the butter they were eating, who were convinced they could detect the least taste of “that nasty buffalo butter,” which in reality they were consuming with the greatest gusto all the while. In spite of her uncouth appearance, the buffalo cow is a nicer feeder than are the Indian humped cattle, and it is well known that the flavour of milk is greatly affected by the character of the animal’s food.

Tinned butter is generally quite wholesome, but is, strictly speaking, not butter at all, but ghi, as the material is necessarily melted in the process of tinning.

Cheese.

—I cannot recall any instance of cheese being incriminated as a carrier of disease. This product is really the result of the action of certain special microbes on milk; and it is probable that any micro-organisms of a dangerous character that may chance to be present in the milk employed in its manufacture, are crowded out and destroyed during the vegetative changes that determine the production of cheese. Tinned cheese, though often of inferior flavour, is usually quite wholesome, and is quite good enough for made dishes. Used as cheese is by the Italian housewife as a flavouring agent rather than a food, it may be used in the concoction of a great variety of dishes having macaroni, rice, or vegetables as their basis, and is invaluable used in this way to impart a variety to the rather scanty menu available during the hotter months, when eatable meat is often almost unobtainable; and from considerations of health, it is desirable to reduce the amount of this form of nourishment.

Meat.

—The meat obtainable in hot countries is usually greatly inferior to what we are accustomed to in England, although it may be doubted if it be any worse than the average supplies of most parts of Europe.

The animals are much smaller, a cleaned carcase of mutton weighing often no more than 30 lbs. in the East; and the same remark applies, in a smaller degree, to beef. Prime meat, such as alone satisfies the English market, can only be produced by careful stall feeding, which is an expensive process in any part of the world; and it is a mistake to suppose that such meat can be produced very much more cheaply in one part of the world than in another, as its cost depends on that of grain, which in these days of rapid communication, has a tendency to equalise itself throughout the world. The meat supply, available in the local markets, is usually simply grass-fed, and none too well nourished at that, so that it is usually stringy and of poor flavour, though very cheap as compared with European prices; and people are apt to grumble at the much higher price demanded for specially grain-fed meat; but the better article is well worth the extra cost from the health point of view, so that when local enterprise fails, it is very desirable that European residents should combine to supply themselves.

In India co-operations of this sort are usual in the smaller stations, and are known as “Mutton Clubs.” To get the animals into anything like good condition, they must be grain-fed for at least four or five months, so that the club must start with at least forty to fifty sheep for each four members, and this number must be kept up by fresh purchases as soon as killing is commenced; it being usual for each member to be apportioned a quarter twice a week. A shepherd has, of course, to be entertained, and the butcher paid for slaughtering and preparing the meat, so that the cost seldom falls far short of the best English meat; but mutton thus fattened can hardly be surpassed, and it must not be forgotten that wholesome food is no less essential to health than pure water, so that the plan might with advantage be adopted in other similarly situated communities.

Neither veal nor lamb are, as a rule, very satisfactory, as the condition of the parental animals is rarely good enough to enable them to get their progeny into plump condition, and pork should certainly be avoided, except in the highly salted and smoked form of imported ham and bacon. Even in temperate climates pork is very liable to those peculiar forms of decomposition, barely perceptible to the nose or eye, which give rise to ptomaine poisoning; and the risk of accidents of this sort is obviously much greater in hot latitudes.

Poultry, like meat, in the countries with which we have to deal, nearly always requires to be fed up at home before killing, and there is as a rule no difficulty in doing so, as space is usually ample, and the birds require but little attention. It should not be forgotten that scraps from the table are invaluable for fattening poultry of all sorts—odds and ends of meat being specially valuable.

It is important that meat should be hung long enough for it to become tender before cooking, and as the changes that bring about the wholesome softening of meat are quite distinct from the operations of the bacteria that are concerned in ordinary decomposition, it is possible to do this even in the hottest weather provided that means are taken to suspend bacterial action.

“Wyvern” in his invaluable “Culinary Jottings from Madras,”[1] a book which should be possessed and carefully studied by every tropical housewife, concludes with what he terms “The last and most worthy recipe of all.” “It is not generally known that the fumes of sulphur prevent the rapid decomposition of animal matter and that tender meat can be had, in the hottest weather, by exposing the joint to the fumes of burning pastiles in an air-tight box for two or three hours after being brought from market. A joint thus treated will keep perfectly for thirty-six hours, even in Madras, and will be found deliciously tender the day after it is purchased. Take—sulphur, 2 lbs., powdered charcoal, 1¹⁄₂ oz., saltpetre, 2 oz.[2] Mix, and add just enough gum water to shape them into pastiles of conical form. A roomy tin-lined packing case, fitted with hooks to suspend the meat, and with a well-fitting door, which can be easily made air-tight by means of strips of felt nailed round the edge, is all that is required. Suspend the meat, place two or three pastiles below it, light them, close the door securely and leave well alone.” The writer has personally tested this plan, and can answer for its excellence; and also that, once the appliance has been obtained, its use involves, practically speaking, no trouble whatever, as it is just as easy to store the meat in this way as in an ordinary safe.

[1] Calcutta: Thacker, Spink and Co., 1885.

[2] These pastiles can be made up by any chemist, and used to be stocked by Waldie and Co., of Cawnpore.

Under the debilitating influences of prolonged heat the digestive powers are never too strong, so that it is taxing them too far to ask of them to digest the quasi leather that has to pass for meat in tropical weather, unless measures of this sort be adopted; and health, it must be remembered, depends largely upon good digestion.

In the countries with which we are concerned, meat should always be thoroughly cooked, no portion being left showing the red of unaltered blood, as the persistence of the red colour shows that the meat has not been raised to a temperature sufficiently high to kill internal worms. Out of the many hundreds of carcases that I have examined in India and at the Cape, I cannot recall finding even one absolutely free from the encysted parasites that develop in man into tapeworms; and it is well-known that the same is the case in Australia and most other warm countries; besides which it is very doubtful if meat is really more nutritious or digestible, when eaten “raw.” All parasites of this class however, are killed by a temperature of 140° F., and as the blood contained in the meat turns brown at this heat, no risk is run, provided it has lost its pink colour.

Eggs

, whether consumed raw or cooked, are perfectly safe as long as they remain in good condition; and so may be relied upon greatly where supplies are of doubtful quality. It is useful to remember that they keep much longer if the shells be well smeared with oil.

Fish.

—On account of its easy digestibility, fish forms a very desirable article of food for the tropical resident, but it is almost needless to say that the greatest care is necessary to secure its being brought to the table in the freshest condition. On this account fish transported for long distances in ice in such climates should always be regarded with suspicion, for most medical men who have practised long “up country” must recall cases where disagreeable consequences have resulted from its use. I cannot say that I have always found myself able to resist the temptations of ice-carried pomfret from Bombay, but would give this hint that fish so transported should never be eaten in the form of “made dishes,” but always either plainly boiled or fried; under which circumstances the first mouthful can hardly fail to make apparent the least sign of commencing decomposition. It is safer, however, in inland places to rely on river fish; and in their case the muddy flavour, which so often renders plainly cooked fish unacceptable, may often be masked by cooking them with tomatoes or other vegetables, or by boning them and serving up as a curry, only please consult “Wyvern,” or some other competent authority, before instructing your chef; for a curry is not mulligatawny soup with scraps of food floating in it, as so many people who have not lived in India appear to imagine, and fish curried a l’Anglais is most uninviting.

Vegetables.

—A free supply of these is essential to healthy nutrition in all climates, and especially so in the Tropics, where it is desirable to restrict the amount of meat consumed. English folk might with great advantage take lessons from our neighbours across the channel, by introducing to their tables plats of vegetables served up alone, and flavoured with some tasty stock, or with simply a little butter. Well cooked, and served piping hot, such dishes are most tempting and wholesome, and may most advantageously take the place of meat dishes at the mid-day meal in hot climates; besides which it is as great a mistake to mask the delicate flavour of early peas and French beans by eating them with meat, as it would be to try to appreciate the flavour of a vintage claret under like circumstances. Where vegetables are scarce, it is well to investigate the dietary of the native races amongst whom one lives, as even in long-settled colonies it is astonishing how often excellent articles of food are entirely neglected by European residents. Served up as haricots verts, the soy bean (Glycine soja) or the lablab bean (Dolichos lablab) cut at the same stage of maturity, as is customary with the ordinary French bean, are excellent and are specially valuable, as they come on at a time when little else is obtainable; but in spite of this, they are very rarely eaten by Europeans. Then too a great variety of succulent leaf plants form an excellent substitute for spinach, and a variety of herbs, wild or cultivated, suitable for serving up in this way, are usually known to the indigenous inhabitants of any country; the very young tops of gram (Cicer arietinaum), for example, are excellent eating. During the Cgaleka campaign, the troops were often for long periods quite without vegetables, and one day the writer, wandering among the kraals near the camp, found some Kaffir women busily gathering a wild plant with small succulent leaves. On discovering that they were picking it for food, a basketful was purchased from them, and when cooked, furnished an excellent dish, almost indistinguishable from genuine spinach. Arrangements were then made to supply the entire detachment once or twice a week; and the men remained throughout the year entirely free from scurvy, a disease which has nearly always given rise to a certain amount of trouble in prolonged military operations in that part of the world, and notably in the Boer concentration camps during the late war.

Many vegetables, too, are excellent when cut very young, which are scarcely eatable when mature. This is especially the case with the bhindi, one of the commonest of the few hot weather Indian vegetables; but your native gardener likes to see them “large and fine,” and will never cut them young enough unless this is insisted upon by his customer. Many vegetables such as pumpkins, onions and tomatoes, may be kept a long time if hung up in an airy place so that they do not come in contact with each other; and where the plan is not practised by those who supply the market, it is well to bear this point in mind, so as to lay by a timely supply against the “rainy day” when vegetables will be scarce. There can be little doubt that the inclusion of a certain amount of uncooked vegetable food in the dietary is always desirable, but salads are too often a dangerous luxury, owing to the very obvious danger from the fertilisers that may have been used in their cultivation, and on this account it is better to avoid them, unless one is absolutely certain as to the conditions under which they are grown; the more as an adequate supply of vegetable acids and salts can usually be taken in the form of fruit. Cucumbers and tomatoes, which can be peeled, need not of course be included in this general law against leaf salads, but tomatoes should always be peeled, as the skin is extremely indigestible, and is a frequent cause of diarrhœa. By dipping it for an instant in boiling water, the skin may be removed with the greatest ease without crushing the tomato.

Fruit.

—The remarks that have been made as to the avoidance of raw vegetables that cannot be peeled apply necessarily to fruit, and those in which this is impossible should always be cooked. Provided the fruit be sound—neither over nor under ripe—a certain amount may always be taken by most persons with advantage, but during hot weather, when the digestive organs are feeble and irritable, it is well to avoid fruit such as apples, which are naturally rather hard of digestion, even when in the best condition. For the same reason, the harder portion of a melon near the skin should be avoided, as hard melons, like any other indigestible matter, may cause looseness; but it is a mistake to imagine that they can cause cholera, a superstition which leads many people to deny themselves the indulgence in this very wholesome and delicious fruit. The origin of this fallacy is no doubt to be found in the fact that cholera is usually at its worst during the melon season, but there is no causal connection between these merely coincident facts.

Bread.

—When manufactured by the unsuperintended native, the conditions under which this almost indispensable article of food is prepared are too often unspeakably nasty; but a good deal more might be done to ameliorate this than is usually attempted, by the occasional unofficial superintendence of customers, and by the boycotting of such bakers as refuse to maintain a decent standard of cleanliness. It is quite possible that the result of such a visit may lead the enquirer to “cry off” bazaar-made bread for the rest of his life, for it is an absolute fact that a surprise visit of this sort once revealed the fact that several lepers were employed in kneading the European bread supply; but it is surely undesirable that such enormities should be perpetrated unchecked, and there can be no doubt that at least some improvement might be secured if people would but interest themselves in the matter. When good bread cannot be obtained, it should be remembered that it is quite possible for it to be made at home with baking powder, by the use of which the trouble and uncertainty involved in the use of yeast may be avoided.

Investigations conducted under the Food and Drugs Act have, however, shown that the acid ingredient of many baking powders is alum, which is injurious, if taken for any time in so large a quantity as is required to raise bread, so that perhaps it is safer to use cream of tartar and bicarbonate of soda, mixed separately with the flour in the proportion of 16 by weight of the former to 7 of the latter; a bare teaspoonful of the tartar, to an eggspoon of soda, for each nine tablespoons of flour, is the housewife’s way of getting a sufficiently near approach to chemical accuracy.

Other foodstuffs.

—Most Oriental nations depend largely for their supply of nitrogenous or proteid food on pulses of various sorts, and, weight for weight, many of these are far more nutritious even than meat. No doubt religious and economical considerations have had much to say in the development of this preference, but, on the other hand, the minute regulations to be found in many religious codes are very often based on really sound sanitary notions that have grown up as the result of traditional experience, and it is probable that the repugnance of the Hindu for meat food, though doubtless carried too far, is based on something more than a mere whim of ritual, and that the introduction of pulses into our dietary as a partial substitute for meat would be advantageous, at any rate during the great heats. At such seasons, the kidneys have all they can do to clear off the waste materials that naturally result from the work of the body, and as meat always contains a large amount of these same waste materials that have originated in the work of the animal that furnished the meat, it is obvious that its extensive use must throw an additional strain on already over-taxed organs. Caution in this matter is, of course, doubly necessary in persons who suffer from either gouty or rheumatic tendencies. The two most palatable among the commoner pulses are lentils (Lens esculenta) and thur dal. (Cajanus Indicus), the latter of which often finds its way to Anglo-Indian tables, but might be more extensively eaten with advantage. All pulses require very thorough cooking, and should be reduced to an absolute pulp by the process; for under other circumstances, they are apt to prove extremely indigestible, whereas when properly treated they are absorbed with the greatest facility.

Rice should be so cooked that the grains, though thoroughly softened, lie quite separate, but it is seldom or never met with cooked to perfection out of India, and by no means always there. The stodgy, sticky mass turned out by the ordinary English cook, or French chef, obstinately resists admixture with the gastric juice, and instead of being the lightest, is converted into a very heavy article of food.

The secret, I understand, consists in putting the well-washed rice into boiling water to which a crystal of alum has been added, and completing the cooking in this. The alum water is then washed off with several changes of cold water, the rice drained, and finally warmed up over a very gentle fire.

Tinned provisions.

—A good many familiar home luxuries can only reach our distant possessions in the form of tinned stores, but there is a tendency to rely too much on them. At their very best they cannot approach well-cooked fresh food in wholesomeness and palatability; and frugality in their employment may be always regarded as one of the distinguishing marks of a good housekeeper, for, speaking generally, the less tins are used the better.

The various classes of food, however, vary greatly in the extent of deterioration produced by the process of tinning. Most vegetables and fruits preserve well in this way, and at any rate I cannot recall any instance of their having been proved to do harm. Meat and fish that have been highly smoked or salted, as well as fish preserved in oil, also appear fairly safe; but tinned fresh meat, and fish of all sorts are luxuries that should be avoided by prudent persons, unless driven to their consumption by scarcity. Tinned soups, containing as they usually do a considerable amount of salt, appear generally safe; and are better in the case of emergencies than the so-called meat extracts, which at best merely act as stimulants. Despite all that specious advertisements and uninformed testimonials may blazon forth to the contrary, it is an impossible feat to pack a cow in a cup, and, though there is a considerable concentration of undesirable excrementitious matter, the actual nutritive value of these preparations is less than that of an equal bulk of the meat from which they are produced.[3] They, of course, have their uses, but must not be depended upon for nourishment in prolonged cases, where they are in every way inferior to properly made beef tea. In ordinary cookery their use is quite indefensible, on account of the strain thrown upon the excretory organs in the elimination of the excrementitious matters of which they are so largely composed.

[3] Vide “Patent Foods and Patent Medicines,” by Robert Hutchison, M.D. (John Bale, Sons, and Danielsson, price 1s.). Although written mainly for the medical profession, this very able little pamphlet might be widely read by the too easily gullible general public with great advantage. The writer shows that some of the expensive “meat juices” are nothing more than diluted white of egg, and that even when genuine, their nutritive value is no higher than the fraudulently substituted egg albumen. Dr. Hutchison’s recipe for “meat” juice is not only amusing, but is well worthy of reproduction for its practical value, as it may save people from wasting many of the half crowns which they now contribute to enable the manufacturers of puffed rubbish to make the hoardings and country-side hideous with their advertisements.

“You can manufacture ‘meat juice’ yourself at a very low cost. Here is a bottle of it which I made this morning. Take the white of egg, add an equal quantity of water, and strain through muslin, then flavour the mixture with any quantity of Liebig’s extract dissolved in a little warm water which you think suitable. By that means you get a preparation extremely rich in coagulable albumen which you can produce at one penny per ounce; and it is one of which the patient can swallow a pailful, if he can get it down, without it doing him any harm. So I see no necessity to buy any of the juices in the market so long as hens exist. That which you make in this way is as good as what you buy, for egg albumen is as nutritious as meat albumen, and it is vastly inferior to it in price.”

The Question of Alcohol

does not, I think, need any special treatment here, as I doubt if its bearings are in any way altered by a change of latitude. Equally in the tropics and on polar expeditions, the majority of persons are, to say the least of it, none the worse for total abstinence; but excess is neither more nor less fatal in the one than in the other locality, and you will everywhere find a few to whom alcohol in strict moderation is useful. One would hesitate to say that this minority would be actually harmed by abstinence, but I am, on the other hand, equally sceptical as to the harmfulness of strict moderation; for, despite the very strong evidence of insurance statistics as to the superior longevity of total abstainers, it must be remembered that the so-called moderate drinkers must necessarily include a considerable number of those who would define moderation as the avoidance of getting drunk, and that the teetotaller is, ipso facto, usually one who is inclined to take more than usual care of his health.

Cooking and kitchen management.

—In the first place, the rule may be generally laid down that it is a false economy to be niggardly in the matter of the cook’s wages. The desirability of good cooking is far from being a mere matter of the gratification of the tastes, but is undoubtedly also a matter of the first hygienic importance. Added to this, a skilful operator can turn a wholesome and appetising dish out of comparatively inferior materials, while a bad one will turn the best into indigestible nastiness; and it will be generally found that those who economise on this detail of expenditure, pay for it over and over again by an excessive expenditure on ready cooked, and tinned foods.

A second point of at least equal importance is the insistence of cleanliness in the kitchen, and in all the operations of cookery, but to secure this adequate appliances must be supplied; for it is useless to expect either good cookery or decent cleanliness without an adequate outfit of “pots and pans,” and proper appliances for cleaning them. At the same time it is a mistake to suppose that the utensils in use among English people will serve equally well in other hands, so that it is generally better to purchase locally what is needed. The heavy English iron saucepan is, e.g., quite unsuited for use on charcoal fires, and an Indian generally lacks the strength of wrist to manipulate it with its clumsy and ill-contrived handle. Speaking generally, aluminium cooking vessels will be found most suitable for charcoal or wood fires, but they should be, if possible, fashioned in the forms to which the local cook is accustomed. Their great advantages are that they lend themselves well to cleansing with sand or ashes, which comes natural to races to whom soap is an unaccustomed luxury; while, unlike copper utensils, they do not require periodical tinning, and so are free from the risk of causing metallic poisoning. Most English housekeepers will probably admit that, even with a home establishment, a certain amount of superintendence of affairs below-stairs can hardly be dispensed with; and if this be so, how very much more must such scrutiny be necessary in places where the workers belong to races to whom cleanliness in such matters is an exotic curiosity. Too often, however, people are apt to let these matters drift, and try to comfort themselves with the reflection that the heart need not imagine what the eye has not seen, but those who do so expose themselves to the certainty of consuming unspeakable nastiness.

I remember well how our mess committee decided that each week a couple of officers in turn should inspect the officers’ kitchen. Being the first on the roster, the senior major and myself proceeded to make our first inspection.

As we were expected, a very salutary, and probably much needed, clean up had been effected, and we found little to criticise till we turned to go away; when making for the door, the kindly major, who could never resist the sight of a child, espied sitting behind the door the brown but cherubic form of the butler’s little boy, dressed in the national costume for children of his age of a piece of string. So he strolled towards the child with the intention of gratifying his little friend with some coppers to purchase sweets, when the urchin respectfully sprang to his feet and revealed the fact that the stool on which he was sitting was a huge round of spiced beef, which had figured on the sideboard at breakfast, and was meant to reappear at lunch. Now we all know that our food must necessarily be more or less handled, but, on the whole, most of us would prefer it not to be sat upon; and our visit resulted in the provision of a proper safe for cold provisions, which, as a matter of fact, was wanting.

This is hardly the place for any detailed consideration of culinary matters, but I would commend to the careful consideration of every tropical housekeeper “Wyvern’s” excellent article on “Our Kitchens in India,” in his book already quoted. There is only one point on which the writer would be disposed to disagree with his authority, and that is as to his recommendation of coal and English kitchen ranges; for whatever may be the case in Madras, this would, for many reasons, be in most places impracticable. Charcoal is a fuel which, no doubt, requires a great deal of attention, but native cooks are quite accustomed to this, and, trouble apart, its cleanliness and freedom from smoke makes it an ideal fuel for cooking, and the antiseptic properties of the charcoal dust in the kitchen are not to be despised.

CHAPTER IV.
The Tropical Day.

There is a southern proverb that, between the hours of two and four in the afternoon, only Englishmen and dogs are to be found abroad; and there is doubtless a good deal of truth in this as regards our countrymen, though the dictum is perhaps rather hard on the dog.

Whether this impeachment be libellous or not, it is undoubtedly the universal custom of all races inhabiting sunny lands to devote these hours to rest, and it is hardly likely that the visitor from northern Europe is wise in refusing to accommodate himself to new conditions. From “ten to four” may suit the business conditions of the City of London excellently, but it does not follow this is equally adapted to Calcutta, and the attempt to do so doubles the strain on nerve and constitution. Apart from this, work done under such trying conditions can never be of the same quality as that which would be accomplished at more suitable hours. Even in busy modern Rome, which is a good deal to the northward of any portion of India, it is quite common for commercial establishments to close during these hours; and it is absurd to reply that this is a mere evidence of sloth and want of business energy, as in spite of this interval of rest, the shops open so much earlier and close so much later that the total of working hours is greater than it is in London. I believe, then, that English folks settled in the Tropics would be wise to adopt an arrangement of the working hours which is the outcome of centuries of experience of life under a vertical sun; and rest when not only our fellow-men, but all animated nature seeks repose; for in those hours, beside a few vagabond crows and those objectionable insects, the flies, a sign of life is hardly to be found abroad to disturb the stillness of the tropical noon.

Unless rest be taken in the afternoon the tropical resident is apt to suffer from want of sleep, for even if he goes to bed at ten o’clock he must needs be astir at five a.m., as exercise can only be comfortably taken in the very early morning and in the dusk of the evening, and seven hours’ sleep, even assuming it to be sound and restful, is quite an inadequate allowance under such trying conditions. Too often however, the night’s sleep is neither sound nor refreshing, and much of the time is passed in rolling from side to side in the vain effort to find some portion of one’s anatomy which the pins and needles of “prickly heat” will cease to trouble. For certain kinds of work, such as travelling, it is indeed necessary to “turn the night into day,” and get through the business during the hours of darkness; for neither men nor horses can perform any work involving muscular exertion, once the sun is well above the horizon, without rapid exhaustion.

It is usually the custom to commence the day with a very light meal, consisting of a cup of tea or coffee and a scrap of toast, which is usually brought to the bedside; but, if one’s work is of a character to keep one away from home for the greater part of the morning, it is better to supplement this with something more substantial, such as an egg, and to eat this after dressing, instead of before. Those whose work takes them into the open had best go straight to it, and trust for morning exercise to the riding and walking that are involved in the superintendence of the work under their charge; but those whose occupations are of a sedentary character, will come to them all the fresher for half an hour’s canter, or a spin on the ever useful “bike.” Exercise at this time of the day should never, however, be carried to the extent of producing fatigue, or the quality of the work done after it will be sure to suffer.

At one time it was a very common custom, on coming in from the morning ride, to have a plunge in the swimming bath, and the writer has pleasant memories of the al fresco meal of fruit and hot tea beside the big station bath, in company with most of the assembled male members of the post. A very pleasant custom it undoubtedly was, but I suspect we did ourselves more harm than good, for the first feeling of freshness was very apt to be succeeded by one of increased fatigue; and I believe this is generally recognised in India; for the fine old swimming baths are everywhere going to ruin from disuse, and this would hardly be the case if they were found as beneficial as they undoubtedly are pleasant. If a plunge bath be taken at all, the best time of the day is probably after the evening game of racquets or tennis—not immediately, of course, but after having given oneself time to cool down somewhat.

If practicable, the backbone of the day’s work should be broken by noon, and this is the time adopted by probably the majority for a meal, which is generally, but rather inappropriately, called breakfast; after which it is a very comforting and, the writer believes, healthy custom to make up for the short, and perhaps disturbed night, by what sailors call a “dog’s snooze”[4] of a couple of hours, after which and a bath, a couple of hours more work can be got in before the sun is low enough to admit of sallying forth, on exercise and recreation bent. After this perhaps another bath, dinner, and bed.

[4] The “dog watches” at sea last two hours.

This programme, it will be observed, admits of an eight hours’ working day, and if anyone is asked to work more than this in a hot climate, the most appropriate advice that can be given them, of course strictly from the point of view of hygiene, is—to strike. This arrangement of meal times is of course very much that obtaining on the Continent, and on this account many find it difficult to accustom themselves to it, and retain the nine o’clock English breakfast and early afternoon luncheon, but this breaks up the morning’s work awkwardly, and makes the number of substantial meals too large to suit most people under the altered conditions of life. Comparatively few people find it advisable to persevere in the use of the cold bath in hot climates, for, strange as it may appear, but few people find it “agree” with them as well as is commonly the case in Europe. This is especially so in the case of those who have suffered much from malarial fever, as most residents of any standing have; for in such persons any sudden shock is apt to give an opportunity to the germs of the disease lying latent in the system, and so to bring about a relapse of fever. Personal experience can of course alone serve as a guide in such a matter, but those who have recently suffered from a malarious attack will do well to be cautious.

With regard to the question of light and ventilation of the house; in places on the coast, where really excessive heat is rarely experienced, all that is necessary is to get as much air as possible without admitting the direct rays of the sun. Inland, however, where the thermometer may stand in or above the nineties for months together, a certain amount of management is required to keep the heat inside the house down as much as possible. To effect this, it is above all essential that every door and opening should be thrown open at night so that the cooler air may get the best possible chance to reduce the temperature of the heated walls. Unfortunately, owing to the uniform peccability of human nature, it is not always practicable to do this, if one wishes to retain one’s ownership of movable property; as in most parts of the world, it is scarcely possible to keep all doors and windows open unless they are protected with bars, a precaution which lends a very forbidding and prison-like aspect to a house. Fortunately, as a rule the native burglar is not a very desperate character; and prefers to work by stealth to attempting to get through any obstacle that might make a noise in the opening. But for this, and the fact that a certain awe usually attaches to the person of an European, robberies could hardly fail to be much more common than they are, for as a rule the bolts and bars of a tropical villa are contrived with a child-like simplicity, which would raise a smile on the face of Mr. William Sykes and his pals.

Here again is another direction in which the adoption of the system of metallic gauze protection against mosquitoes will tend to make tropical life more tolerable; for the stuff is much stronger than it looks, and would form a quite adequate protection against ordinary thieves; besides which, the gauze, for those troubled with nerves, might be easily strengthened by supplementing it with a layer of the strong wire netting used for fowl runs, &c., without making the place look like a jail, or appreciably diminishing the freedom of ventilation. It would be easy, too, by attaching to some part of the frames, inaccessible from the outside, bells hung on springs such as used to be used in houses before the adoption of the electric mechanism, to render the frames a very difficult obstacle to open without rousing the inmates, even for light-fingered gentry much more skilful than those with whom one has usually to deal. An obstruction that will keep out a mosquito may easily be modified to exclude men, and only those who have passed a hot weather in towns where it is dangerous to sleep with open doors, can appreciate what a benefit it would be to be able to dispense with the use of solid doors and sashes. Strengthened with wire netting, the gauze would form a far more formidable obstacle than any ordinary window, for a little reflection will convince anyone that even the gauze alone would be far more difficult to dispose of than the simple panes of thin glass on which we have been accustomed to rely. Usually the house may be kept open with advantage until eight or nine in the morning; but after this the thermometer begins to rise rapidly, and it becomes necessary to close up everything, while in very extreme climates it may be desirable to supplement the doors by the addition of thick, wadded curtains, but this should never be carried to the extent of making the rooms difficult to see in, for a fair amount of light is absolutely essential to health. Besides this various other expedients may be adopted, a very useful one being the sprinkling of the verandahs with a watering can as soon as the heat of the day is over, a process which may be very advantageously extended to the roof, where this is of the terraced form, always assuming that cheap labour is available. The coolness produced by the evaporation of water is also utilised by means of “tatties,” as well as in a machine known as the thermantidote.

Tatties are thick, loosely-woven mats, made by binding a thatch formed of short lengths of a scented grass (known as khaskhas) to a frame-work of bamboo, which are constructed to fit the frames of the windward doors and windows, and are kept constantly wet by a man, who goes from one to the other throwing water on them. Their efficiency depends entirely on the amount of wind, and to maintain a good current it is of course necessary that one or more of the leeward doors should be also kept open, a fact of which it is often difficult to convince the ladies, who, in their intense eagerness to shut out the heat at all costs, not unfrequently succeed in shutting it in instead. Given a fairly good breeze, and a waterman who does his work well, it is possible to produce a very marked amelioration of the temperature; and the free passage of air through the room goes far to neutralise the dangers of dampness. Of course neither these appliances, nor the thermantidote, can act except in dry heat, so that their usefulness is quite confined to the dry months of inland climates.

The thermantidote, in its usual form, is a large wooden drum, within which revolves a system of fans, one of the upper quadrants of its circumference being removed and replaced by a horizontal tube, which projects through an opening in a temporary screen into the room to be cooled. The sides of the drum, through which the axle projects, are replaced, in the middle, by small tatties, and the effect of driving the fans (which work like those of a paddle boat, and not on the principle of the screw) is to draw air through these small wet mats and drive it into the room. Some of the more elaborate sort are provided with a miniature pump, which delivers water on to the mats from a trough below, the pump being driven from the same multiplying wheel as the fan. In thoroughly dry weather, it is quite possible to reduce the temperature of a room by fully ten degrees by means of these machines, but they are treacherous arrangements, especially for those who allow themselves to be tempted to sit in the full force of the current, and are responsible for a great number of chills and rheumatic twinges of all sorts, so that I believe it is better to endure the heat without them. The labour of driving them, too, is rather severe, so that relays of strong young coolies must be entertained if they are to be worked efficiently; whereas in the case of the punkah a certain knack is required, rather than mere brute strength and stupidity, so that the work is very suitable for men who are past their prime. The best punkah wallah I ever had was an old blind man, and the work seems particularly suitable for the blind, as sight is in no way required, but, in the East, these unfortunates generally prefer to resort to their traditional employment of mendicancy. The little art of pulling a punkah lies in never checking it as it swings away from you; and in making the pull just as it begins to lose way on its return; but simple as this may appear, the men often require a good deal of training before they do it well. The original punkah is said to have been invented by a bored clerk in a Calcutta office, over whose head, it happened, the spare leaf of a table had been hung to keep it out of the way of the white ants. In an idle moment he began to make the suspended plank swing to and fro, and finding the resulting breeze very comforting, proceeded to make fast a cord, and set a coolie to pull it. The contrivance, at any rate, dates only from the English occupation of India, and the original flat plank has never been improved on, as the less unsightly pole punkah and frill is in every way inferior to it. The broad, flat punkah of course is usually also fitted with a frill, but a light, single cloth, about the substance of a bath towel, really acts far better than the usual heavy frill, as it gives a peculiar flick at the top of its stroke which is extremely effectual.

It is a not uncommon misapprehension to imagine that a punkah cools the air within a room, though this, of course, is an obvious impossibility, but the current of air produced by it promotes the rapid evaporation of the moisture of the skin, and the body is thereby cooled, which for practical purposes is much the same thing.

Ladies who make up their minds to face the hot weather do well to strive to compass a certain amount of exercise in the open air, for their occupations tend to keep them in the house more than their worse halves. It is a great mistake to picture the Anglo-Indian lady as passing her time in sloth and idleness. Civilisation has not reached the same pitch in the Tropics that it has in temperate climates, and those who migrate there must be prepared to live two centuries behind Europe; with the result that a multitude of the details of household economy have to be done in the house which, at home, would be managed by the tradesman. On this account, the memsahib finds herself back in the days of domestic dairies and still rooms, and must busy herself with the superintending of a score of details undreamt of in a modern English housewife’s philosophy. To realise how much she has to do and how well she does it, one has only to put up for a few days in a bachelor’s ménage, and reflect how much better the “singly blessed” fare west of Suez.

Whether ladies really suffer more from the strain of hot climates than persons of the male persuasion, is very difficult to say, as it is probably mainly the more robust who elect to share the burden and heat of the day in the plains with the mere man; but it is probably more a question of will power than of physical strength that determines the question; for as often as not it is the big Du Maurier type of girl that leads the rout to the hills, while some fragile-looking piece of bottled energy remains to be the life of the parching station below. Those who do stay, as a rule, do not appear to suffer any more than their husbands; but no one is any the better for a hot weather in the plains, and whether the strain of such surroundings is well or ill borne, is probably more a question of individual temperament than of either sex or physical strength.

The writer has met with ladies who had passed many consecutive years in the plains of India with apparently no very noticeable bad effects, but these have been mainly such as, owing either to inclination or the nature of their occupation, were a good deal out and about, in spite of the heat, and so got a fair amount of exercise, and did not shut themselves up for all the daylight hours in stifling and depressing semi-darkness.

CHAPTER V.
Hints on the Management of Children in Hot Climates.

Owing to the circumstance that it is more convenient to deal with the subject of the feeding of infants in connection with that of the prevention of infantile diarrhœa, but little of a nature special to hot climates remains to be noticed in connection with the management of young infants, for being concerned with little else than the assimilation of nourishment, their well-being or otherwise is governed almost entirely by the state of their digestion.

Putting aside the special danger of infantile diarrhœa, young infants generally do well in hot climates, which are in many ways suitable to their low powers of resistance to cold. Some writers, very competent to speak on the subject, are indeed of opinion that very young infants do better in India than in cold or temperate climates; and perhaps this may be the case as regards breast-fed children, for, the air temperature being but little below that of the body, they are almost entirely protected from the coughs and colds of all sorts that do so much damage at home, and lead to the poor children being confined to a stuffy atmosphere instead of enjoying the enormous advantage of unlimited fresh air, of which an infant requires proportionately even more than an adult. On this account never allow a nurse, however experienced she may be in her own conceit, to cover a child’s face with a handkerchief even out of doors, as the re-breathing of air already polluted by passing through the lungs is one of the most frequent causes of illness in human beings of all ages, and if the air outside be really so cold as to be harmful, the child will be better indoors, in a well-warmed and ventilated room, than outside, if half stifled in this silly fashion.

If she has any lingering doubts on the matter, let the mother borrow an ambulance, and try how much fresh air can be got, lying flat on the back, with a handkerchief spread over the face, and a fussy old woman in attendance to replace it should it chance to get disarranged.

The dangers of that abomination, the “baby’s comforter,” are elsewhere adverted to, but to show that the writer is by no means singular in his opinion, the following extract from Science Siftings may be read with advantage:—

“Most expert observers of the infectious nature of consumption have stated that the bacilli almost invariably enter the system through the nose or mouth, the respiratory system, in fact. Yet there are others who state that the milk drunk by infants is a chief cause of infection. But a new and deeply interesting theory is put forward by Drs. J. O. Symes and T. Fisher in the British Medical Journal. All day long, they write, babies are sucking an indiarubber comforter, and it no sooner drops on to the dirty floor than it is hastily picked up and thrust again into the mouth of the infant. Older children also, as they crawl, take up every article they can lay hold of and put it into their mouths, to the danger of which their dirt-begrimed cheeks bear witness. The moral is obvious.”