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One Third Off
by
“And as for pills and boluses and bottled goods guaranteed to reduce your weight, and as for all these patented treatments and proprietary preparations which you see boosted in the papers–bah! Either they are harmless mixtures, in which event they’ll probably do you no serious injury, but will certainly do you no real good; or else they contain drugs which, taken to excess, may cut you down in size, but have the added drawback of very probably cutting short your life.
“No, sir-ree! For you it’s dieting, now and from now on. You may be able to relax your diet in time, but you can never altogether forego it. Give us this day our daily diet–that’s your proper prayer. And you’d better start praying pretty soon, too!”
“All right, doc,” I said resignedly. “You’ve practically converted me. I can’t say I’m happy over the prospect, but if you say so I’m prepared to become a true believer. But since, between us, we’re about to take all the joy out of life, let’s be thorough. What must I do to be saved? Give me the horrible details right here. I might as well hear the worst at one session.”
“I’m no dietitian,” he said. “I don’t profess to be one. That’s not my line–my line is the diagnostic. Of course I could lay down a few broad general rules for your guidance–any experienced practitioner could do that–but to get the best returns you should consult a diet specialist. However, in parting–I have several paying guests waiting for me and we are now about to part–I will throw in one more bit of advice without charge. No matter what suggestions you may get from any quarter, I would urge you not to follow any banting formula so rigorous as to take off your superfluous flesh very rapidly. Take your time about it. If you live as long as both of us hope you may you’ll have plenty of time. There’s no rush, so go at it gradually. Be regular about it, but don’t be too ambitious at the outset. Don’t try to turn yourself into a tricky sprite in two weeks. For a fat man too abruptly to strip the flesh off his bones I regard as dangerous. It weakens him and depletes his powers of resistance and makes him fair game for any stray microbe which may be cruising about looking for a place to set up housekeeping.”
At first blush it might appear to the lay mind that a germ would scarcely care to pick a bone when it had fat meat to feed on, but my own recollections bore out my friend’s statements. I remembered a man of my acquaintance, an enormously fleshy and unwieldy man, who, fearing apoplexy, undertook a radical scheme of banting. He lost fifty pounds in three months, so apoplexy did not get him, but pneumonia did with great suddenness. He was sick only three days. Nobody suspected that he was seriously ill until the third day, when suddenly he just hauled off and died.
So I promised to have a care against seeking to hurry myself right out of the flounder class and right into the smelt division.
CHAPTER VIII
The Friendly Sons of the Boiled Spinach
My friend gave me the names of several men of acknowledged standing and told me I should be making no mistake did I put myself in the hands of any one on the list. I thanked him and departed from his presence. To the casual eye I may have seemed, going away, to be in high spirits; but, confidentially, I wasn’t feeling so very brash. My spirits were low. I had heard the truth–I made no effort to deceive myself there–but the truth was painful.
Still, knowing what I should do, I hesitated, temporizing with myself. I gave a couple of days of intensive meditation to the subject, and then I reached this conclusion: I would read a few standard and orthodox works on dietetics, and, so doing, try to arrive at least at a superficial knowledge of the matter. Also, I would balance what one recognized authority said as against what another recognized authority said, and then, before going to a specialist, I would do a little personal experimenting with my diet and mark the effects.