Half-Light

Miss Bruss, the perfect secretary, received Nona Manford at the door of her mother’s boudoir (“the office,” Mrs. Manford’s children called it) with a gesture of the kindliest denial. “She wants to, you know, dear—your mother always wants to see you,” pleaded Maisie Bruss, in a voice which seemed to be thinned and sharpened by continuous telephoning. Miss Bruss, attached to Mrs. Manford’s service since shortly after the latter’s second marriage, had known Nona from her childhood, and was privileged, even now that she was “out,” to treat her with a certain benevolent familiarity—benevolence being the note of the Manford household.                                                                                           

                                                                                                                               “But look at her list—just for this morning!” the secretary continued, handing over a tall morocco-framed tablet, on which was inscribed, in the colourless secretarial hand: “7.30 Mental uplift. 7.45 Breakfast. 8. Psycho-analysis. 8.15 See cook. 8.30 Silent Meditation. 8.45 Facial massage. 9. Man with Persian miniatures. 9.15 Correspondence. 9.30 Manicure. 9.45 Eurythmic exercises. 10. Hair waved. 10.15 Sit for bust. 10.30 Receive Mothers’ Day deputation. 11. Dancing lesson. 11.30 Birth Control committee at Mrs.—” “The manicure is there now, late as usual. That’s what martyrizes your mother; everybody’s being so unpunctual. This New York life is killing her.” “I’m not unpunctual,” said Nona Manford, leaning in the doorway. “No; and a miracle, too! The way you girls keep up your dancing all night. You and Lita—what times you two do have!” Miss Bruss was becoming almost maternal. “But just run your eye down that list—. You see your mother didn’t expect to see you before lunch; now did she?” Nona shook her head. “No; but you might perhaps squeeze me in.” It was said in a friendly, a reasonable tone; on both sides the matter was being examined with an evident desire for impartiality and good-will. Nona was used to her mother’s engagements; used to being squeezed in between faith-healers, art-dealers, social service workers and manicures.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        When Mrs. Manford did see her children she was perfect to them; but in this killing New York life, with its ever-multiplying duties and responsibilities, if her family had been allowed to tumble in at all hours and devour her time, her nervous system simply couldn’t have stood it—and how many duties would have been left undone! Mrs. Manford’s motto had always been: “There’s a time for everything.” But there were moments when this optimistic view failed her, and she began to think there wasn’t. This morning, for instance, as Miss Bruss pointed out, she had had to tell the new French sculptor who had been all the rage in New York for the last month that she wouldn’t be able to sit to him for more than fifteen minutes, on account of the Birth Control committee meeting at 11.30 at Mrs.— Nona seldom assisted at these meetings, her own time being—through force of habit rather than real inclination—so fully taken up with exercise, athletics and the ceaseless rush from thrill to thrill which was supposed to be the happy privilege of youth. But she had had glimpses enough of the scene: of the audience of bright elderly women, with snowy hair, eurythmic movements, and finely-wrinkled over-massaged faces on which a smile of glassy benevolence sat like their rimless pince-nez.                                                                                                                                                                 They were all inexorably earnest, aimlessly kind and fathomlessly pure; and all rather too well-dressed, except the “prominent woman” of the occasion, who usually wore dowdy clothes, and had steel-rimmed spectacles and straggling wisps of hair. Whatever the question dealt with, these ladies always seemed to be the same, and always advocated with equal zeal Birth Control and unlimited maternity, free love or the return to the traditions of the American home; and neither they nor Mrs. Manford seemed aware that there was anything contradictory in these doctrines.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             All they knew was that they were determined to force certain persons to do things that those persons preferred not to do. Nona, glancing down the serried list, recalled a saying of her mother’s former husband, Arthur Wyant: “Your mother and her friends would like to teach the whole world how to say its prayers and brush its teeth.” The girl had laughed, as she could never help laughing at Wyant’s sallies; but in reality she admired her mother’s zeal, though she sometimes wondered if it were not a little too promiscuous.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Nona was the daughter of Mrs. Manford’s second marriage, and her own father, Dexter Manford, who had had to make his way in the world, had taught her to revere activity as a virtue in itself; his tone in speaking of Pauline’s zeal was very different from Wyant’s. He had been brought up to think there was a virtue in work per se, even if it served no more useful purpose than the revolving of a squirrel in a wheel. “Perhaps your mother tries to cover too much ground; but it’s very fine of her, you know—she never spares herself.” “Nor us!” Nona sometimes felt tempted to add; but Manford’s admiration was contagious. Yes; Nona did admire her mother’s altruistic energy; but she knew well enough that neither she nor her brother’s wife Lita would ever follow such an example—she no more than Lita. They belonged to another generation: to the bewildered disenchanted young people who had grown up since the Great War, whose energies were more spasmodic and less definitely directed, and who, above all, wanted a more personal outlet for them.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  “Bother earthquakes in Bolivia!” Lita had once whispered to Nona, when Mrs. Manford had convoked the bright elderly women to deal with a seismic disaster at the other end of the world, the repetition of which these ladies somehow felt could be avoided if they sent out a commission immediately to teach the Bolivians to do something they didn’t want to do—not to believe in earthquakes, for instance. The young people certainly felt no corresponding desire to set the houses of others in order. Why shouldn’t the Bolivians have earthquakes if they chose to live in Bolivia? And why must Pauline Manford lie awake over it in New York, and have to learn a new set of Mahatma exercises to dispel the resulting wrinkles? “I suppose if we feel like that it’s really because we’re too lazy to care,” Nona reflected, with her incorrigible honesty. She turned from Miss Bruss with a slight shrug. “Oh, well,” she murmured. “You know, pet,” Miss Bruss volunteered, “things always get worse as the season goes on; and the last fortnight in February is the worst of all, especially with Easter coming as early as it does this year. I never could see why they picked out such an awkward date for Easter: perhaps those Florida hotel people did it.                                                                                                           Why, your poor mother wasn’t even able to see your father this morning before he went down town, though she thinks it’s all wrong to let him go off to his office like that, without finding time for a quiet little chat first…Just a cheery word to put him in the right mood for the day…Oh, by the way, my dear, I wonder if you happen to have heard him say if he’s dining at home tonight? Because you know he never does remember to leave word about his plans, and if he hasn’t, I’d better telephone to the office to remind him that it’s the night of the big dinner for the Marchesa—” “Well, I don’t think father’s dining at home,” said the girl indifferently. “Not—not—not? Oh, my gracious!” clucked Miss Bruss, dashing across the room to the telephone on her own private desk.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           The engagement-list had slipped from her hands, and Nona Manford, picking it up, ran her glance over it. She read: “4 P.M. See A.—4.30 P.M. Musical: Torfried Lobb.” “4 P.M. See A.” Nona had been almost sure it was Mrs. Manford’s day for going to see her divorced husband, Arthur Wyant, the effaced mysterious person always designated on Mrs. Manford’s lists as “A,” and hence known to her children as “Exhibit A.”                                                                                                                                                                 It was rather a bore, for Nona had meant to go and see him herself at about that hour, and she always timed her visits so that they should not clash with Mrs. Manford’s, not because the latter disapproved of Nona’s friendship with Arthur Wyant (she thought it “beautiful” of the girl to show him so much kindness), but because Wyant and Nona were agreed that on these occasions the presence of the former Mrs. Wyant spoilt their fun. But there was nothing to do about it. Mrs. Manford’s plans were unchangeable. Even illness and death barely caused a ripple in them. One might as well have tried to bring down one of the Pyramids by poking it with a parasol as attempt to disarrange the close mosaic of Mrs. Manford’s engagement-list. Mrs. Manford herself couldn’t have done it; not with the best will in the world; and Mrs. Manford’s will, as her children and all her household knew, was the best in the world. Nona Manford moved away with a final shrug. She had wanted to speak to her mother about something rather important; something she had caught a startled glimpse of, the evening before, in the queer little half-formed mind of her sister-in-law Lita, the wife of her half-brother Jim Wyant—the Lita with whom, as Miss Bruss remarked, she, Nona, danced away the nights.                                                                                                                                There was nobody on earth as dear to Nona as that same Jim, her elder by six or seven years, and who had been brother, comrade, guardian, almost father to her—her own father, Dexter Manford, who was so clever, capable and kind, being almost always too busy at the office, or too firmly requisitioned by Mrs. Manford, when he was at home, to be able to spare much time for his daughter. Jim, bless him, always had time; no doubt that was what his mother meant when she called him lazy—as lazy as his father, she had once added, with one of her rare flashes of impatience. Nothing so conduced to impatience in Mrs. Manford as the thought of anybody’s having the least fraction of unapportioned time and not immediately planning to do something with it. If only they could have given it to her ! And Jim, who loved and admired her (as all her family did) was always conscientiously trying to fill his days, or to conceal from her their occasional vacuity.                                                                                                                                                                                                           But he had a way of not being in a hurry, and this had been all to the good for little Nona, who could always count on him to ride or walk with her, to slip off with her to a concert or a “movie,” or, more pleasantly still, just to be there —idling in the big untenanted library of Cedarledge, the place in the country, or in his untidy study on the third floor of the town house, and ready to answer questions, help her to look up hard words in dictionaries, mend her golf-sticks, or get a thorn out of her Sealyham’s paw. Jim was wonderful with his hands: he could repair clocks, start up mechanical toys, make fascinating models of houses or gardens, apply a tourniquet, scramble eggs, mimic his mother’s visitors—preferably the “earnest” ones who held forth about “causes” or “messages” in her gilded drawing-rooms—and make delicious coloured maps of imaginary continents, concerning which Nona wrote interminable stories. And of all these gifts he had, alas, made no particular use as yet—except to enchant his little half-sister. It had been just the same, Nona knew, with his father: poor useless “Exhibit A”! Mrs. Manford said it was their “old New York blood”—she spoke of them with mingled contempt and pride, as if they were the last of the Capetians, exhausted by a thousand years of sovereignty.                                                                                                               Her own red corpuscles were tinged with a more plebeian dye. Her progenitors had mined in Pennsylvania and made bicycles at Exploit, and now gave their name to one of the most popular automobiles in the United States. Not that other ingredients were lacking in her hereditary make-up: her mother was said to have contributed southern gentility by being a Pascal of Tallahassee. Mrs. Manford, in certain moods, spoke of “The Pascals of Tallahassee” as if they accounted for all that was noblest in her; but when she was exhorting Jim to action it was her father’s blood that she invoked. “After all, in spite of the Pascal tradition, there is no shame in being in trade. My father’s father came over from Scotland with two sixpences in his pocket…” and Mrs. Manford would glance with pardonable pride at the glorious Gainsborough over the dining-room mantelpiece (which she sometimes almost mistook for an ancestral portrait), and at her healthy handsome family sitting about the dinner-table laden with Georgian silver and orchids from her own hot-houses. From the threshold, Nona called back to Miss Bruss: “Please tell mother I shall probably be lunching with Jim and Lita—” but Miss Bruss was passionately saying to an unseen interlocutor: “Oh, but Mr. Rigley, but you must make Mr. Manford understand that Mrs. Manford counts on him for dinner this evening…                                                                                                                                                                                        The dinner-dance for the Marchesa, you know…” — The marriage of her half-brother had been Nona Manford’s first real sorrow. Not that she had disapproved of his choice: how could any one take that funny irresponsible little Lita Cliffe seriously enough to disapprove of her? The sisters-in-law were soon the best of friends; if Nona had a fault to find with Lita, it was that she didn’t worship the incomparable Jim as blindly as his sister did. But then Lita was made to be worshipped, not to worship; that was manifest in the calm gaze of her long narrow nut-coloured eyes, in the hieratic fixity of her lovely smile, in the very shape of her hands, so slim yet dimpled, hands which had never grown up, and which drooped from her wrists as if listlessly waiting to be kissed, or lay like rare shells or upcurved magnolia-petals on the cushions luxuriously piled about her indolent body. The Jim Wyants had been married for nearly two years now; the baby was six months old; the pair were beginning to be regarded as one of the “old couples” of their set, one of the settled landmarks in the matrimonial quicksands of New York. Nona’s love for her brother was too disinterested for her not to rejoice in this: above all things she wanted her old Jim to be happy, and happy she was sure he was—or had been until lately. The mere getting away from Mrs. Manford’s iron rule had been a greater relief than he himself perhaps guessed. And then he was still the foremost of Lita’s worshippers; still enchanted by the childish whims, the unpunctuality, the irresponsibility, which made life with her such a thrillingly unsettled business after the clock-work routine of his mother’s perfect establishment. All this Nona rejoiced in; but she ached at times with the loneliness of the perfect establishment, now that Jim, its one disturbing element, had left. Jim guessed her loneliness, she was sure: it was he who encouraged the growing intimacy between his wife and his half-sister, and tried to make the latter feel that his house was another home to her. Lita had always been amiably disposed toward Nona.                                                                                                                                                                                                                       The two, though so fundamentally different, were nearly of an age, and united by the prevailing passion for every form of sport. Lita, in spite of her soft curled-up attitudes, was not only a tireless dancer but a brilliant if uncertain tennis-player, and an adventurous rider to hounds. Between her hours of lolling, and smoking amber-scented cigarettes, every moment of her life was crammed with dancing, riding or games. During the two or three months before the baby’s birth, when Lita had been reduced to partial inactivity, Nona had rather feared that her perpetual craving for new “thrills” might lead to some insidious form of time-killing—some of the drinking or drugging that went on among the young women of their set; but Lita had sunk into a state of smiling animal patience, as if the mysterious work going on in her tender young body had a sacred significance for her, and it was enough to lie still and let it happen. All she asked was that nothing should “hurt” her: she had the blind dread of physical pain common also to most of the young women of her set. But all that was so easily managed nowadays: Mrs. Manford (who took charge of the business, Lita being an orphan) of course knew the most perfect “Twilight Sleep” establishment in the country, installed Lita in its most luxurious suite, and filled her rooms with spring flowers, hot-house fruits, new novels and all the latest picture-papers—and Lita drifted into motherhood as lightly and unperceivingly as if the wax doll which suddenly appeared in the cradle at her bedside had been brought there in one of the big bunches of hot-house roses that she found every morning on her pillow. “Of course there ought to be no Pain…nothing but Beauty…It ought to be one of the loveliest, most poetic things in the world to have a baby,” Mrs. Manford declared, in that bright efficient voice which made loveliness and poetry sound like the attributes of an advanced industrialism, and babies something to be turned out in series like Fords. And Jim’s joy in his son had been unbounded; and Lita really hadn’t minded in the least.
x

My views

 

                              Wild Dog and Rabbit 

    

             Once there lived a rabbit in a forest. One afternoon, he was going to the river to drink water. On his way he saw a wild dog sitting under a boulder. When the wild dog saw the  rabbit, started watering. He called out to the rabbit and said, "Hey friend! Where are you going in this scathing heat? Why don't you come and rest for some time till scathing goes away in my cool shade of the boulder. "

  

  

The Rabbit said politely, "Dear Dog! I am very thirsty and  my throat is very dry. I will come to you on my way back from the river."

The Rabbit went to the river and drank the cool water. After quenching his thirst, the rabbit suddenly sensed the danger that he was going to face on his way back home. He said to himself, "should i trust this wild dog? Since I have told him that I would meet him on my way back home, I will have to go there. But, I will have to be careful and must handle the situation tactfully. Thinking thus, the rabbit returned to the boulder where the wild dog awaited for him."

The rabbit was a little frightened. Gathering some courage he said, "Dear friend, I am so happy to see you. You are so nice. Yet everybody says that you are cunning! Personally, I think that nobody appreciates you."

The rabbit consoled the wild dog and said, "let us find a solution to this problem."

The cunning wild dog thought of an idea and said, "Yes. We must find a solution to this problem. Friend, will you do me a favour? please come to my  cave in the evening. we will have dinner together and then think of a solution."

The rabbit accepted the wild dog invitation and said, "All right. I will come to your cave in the evening. We will dine together and think of a way out."

The wild dog smiled and said to himself, "This silly rabbit has fallen into my trap. Let him come to my cave this evening; I'll finish him!"

That evening, the rabbit arrived at the cave where the fox lived. He was surprised to see that there was nothing to eat in the cave. The wild dog was waiting for him eagerly. The cunning wild dog welcomed the rabbit and asked him to sit by his side. The rabbit realized that the wild dog had laid a trap to kill him.

Before the wild dog  could pounce on him, he scampered swiftly out of the cave and ran for his life. The wild dog looked on helplessly.

         The little rabbit had escaped. The dazed fox stood there wondering what to do next.

My Story

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     Alma's  pov...............

 I was out at the local park with my friends and i wondered out into the woods nearby the park and saw a old house and a slate on the gate was written as DO NOT ENTER and at the top of the house was designed and said has it was made in 1840 and their was police tape on the door.

Me being soo adventurous, I went into the house looked allover and said "hello is anyone hear" their was not a single noise in the house in the house i kept on walking threw the house i saw few old drums, broken furniture's and I saw a grim stood like statue about 8ft tall with black hair and beautiful baby eyes and I said "Who are you?" then the figure disappeared and I walked out of the house and went to my house that evening and searched upon the internet to see if their was any haunted houses in my area and if their was any ghost sightings nearby as well.

The next day i go to school and general is their asks me "Alma can you help me find me peace I want my soul to be at rest" I say "how can you help you he says, I need to find my true love she was my fiance When I was drafted in the war and I died in combat" I say "My gosh I don't know how could I fined your love" he said "you look just like her in every way I have a nephew that looks like me in my younger years" I say "and how could I help your rest in peace " he says. "You must go to his house and knock on his door and tell him your name and ask him to follow you to this house and by the way his name in justin then when your done with that I will give you the rest of the directions when your hear."

I walked down the street to justin's house and knocks on his door "hello justin I am Alma and I was wandering if you wanted to go to a walk down to the old park" Justin responded "Alma when I first saw you at school I had a crush on you and wished one day you would be mine but I guess what I am trying to say is I love you and want you to be mine so what I'm asking is would you like to be my girlfriend ?" I did not know what to say so I just said" Yes! I mean sure."

As we where walking down the street we was talking small talk the he stopped at old maple tree and brought me to it and carved out a heart and put a with a arrow threw it and we sat their talking for hours and then I decided I loved him to and I hugged him and he hugged me back.

As we where sitting by tree Justin leaned in and kissed me on the lips and in shock I jumped and said "Sorry you startled me" and I blushed and kissed him and gave him a hug. We kept in walking and we reach the house and I told him about his uncle telling me this stuff and he understood then I asked his ghost uncle "now what do we do now" "now when you are 18+ you need to get married and then my soul will be at rest" at the time I was 17 and Justin was 18 and it was ten days away from my birth day.

Now it was 1day from my birthday and then I would be 18 then I decided to got to the old maple tree and when I arrived at the tree I saw Justin crying by the tree and I walk up to him and said "hey honey why are you crying" he said "my parents are divorcing and I don't want our relationship to end like that can you promise me something " I said "yeah of  course" he said "don't ever leave me" I laughed and said" of course why would I want to leave you" and I kisses him and we went to his place.

As we were at his place and I told him that I will never leave you I will always love you  " he said " I will always love you to "when I turned 18 I got the worst news in my life justin was hit my a car and was in critical condition and his chances of surviving was a 1 in 100 chance of him to survive. The next day I was called by the doctor saying" I am sorry but in orator for him to survive he has to get a lung transplant" right after I got the call I ran to my car and drove to the hospital and told the nurse "I need to see justin" When i walked in the room I ran upto him and cried and put my head on his chest and said" don't worry you will make it even if I die in the process" then i kissed him and walked upto the doctor and said "I will give him the lunge no matter what happens to me," As I went in to  surgery I Prayed from both of us to make it out alive right after I got one of my lings removed I said "how is justin" they said "he is fine he will mark it thanks to you" I smiled and wiped my tears away I said" will I make it?" the doctors said" the odds are low for you chances of surviving " I shook my head and said " can i still get married before I die?" the doctor said "yes you have ruffly a bout 3months before you die if you do you have a 10% chance tho," today's the wedding day as i get reddy to walk down aisle as i walk down the aisle my heart ponds and i collapse to the ground and I am rushed back to the hospital and while i am on the bed my fiance comes up to me and says " I do" with my last diying breath I say" I do "(third person pov). With my dead body laying their the doctors rush me into surgery and the doctor walks in with a sad expression on his face and tells justin" we might be able to save her but the odds are now in her favor. Justin sets their and gets up and asks the doctor" can i see her for the last time at least" the doctor says" yes" he walks in and sits next to her and says "lord if I had a time machine I would go back in time a all the years i did not have you and would be with you and care but most of all I am a fool for not being their every chance I got "he kisses her lips one last time and says" I will never marry any one else" then the heart monitor started beeping again and she startedto breath again and opened her eyes and said" I love you justin," 

As i returned home after long time at the hospital i realized that justin was my life savor just as i saved his life it's funny how that seemed to happen but after we got married the ghost finely got to rest in peace now as the days past I just think of my past and how the heck I am still same. But now i think  i will talk to justin "hey honey how are you" "oh i am fine how are you" "I am fine just wondering about something" "what honey?" well about kids" "what about kids?" "do you want to have kids" "oh um i  guess" "I know it odd but we have been married for quite long time and i don't want kids now probably later on but not right now" "I know that seems odd at this moment "yea want to go to the old maple tree?" "yea" as we walk to the tree my stomach feels weird and i tell justin" i think we need to go to the doctor my stomach hurts" "ok we was using protection right?" "yea but it could have broke" "ok ok lets get you to the doctors" as we go the doctors i feel like something is moving in my stomach i tear up knowing that I am only 18 and might be pregnant and know I will have to grow up preety fast if i am pregnant.

As we arrive to the hospital we go in to the room and find out the i am pregnant and it's 5 n1/2 months in so we get a ultra sound and they find out that it's twins so we rush home and plan a baby shower and that goes well but then justin starts being mean to me and calling me hurtful names i say "are you freakin serious you want to be my husband but when you screw me up you leave me alone like i am nothing and you know what get out of my life I can handle this on my own good bye" so now that i am on my own I find a nice apartment and put the baby stuff in it and wait and wait for the time when twins are born 3and 1/2 months later the baby's are born and I am on my own with know one to help me out. 

 So later that night I went to my moms house and dropped off the twins one was a boy and the other was a girl their names where kevin and the girl was abigail but but we called her abby for short when i dropped them of  I went of to the local bar where I saw sitting their lone with a sad look on his face I looked at him at the  sametime he looked at me and signaled for me to come hear.

I walked over to him and he pulled me closer to him and kissed my lips and I kissed him back for what seemed like a few seconds and then we stopes and I said" remember your promise you made to me When you was young"

"Yes and I was stupid to leave you I was not ready for kids but now I want you back and the kids and want a another baby so what do you say." 

"I say how about me and you go to my place and we see about a another kid."

Own Business

                                    Own Business

My name is jennie Bings. I was born of honest parents in one of the humbler walks of life, my father being a manufacturer of dog-oil and my mother having a small vegetable store in the shadow of the village church. In my boyhood I was trained to habits of industry; I not only assisted my father in procuring dogs for his vats, but was frequently employed by my mother to carry away the rotten vegetables to throw at garbage truck. 

In performance of this duty I sometimes had need of all my natural intelligence for all the law officers of the vicinity were opposed to my mother's business. They were not elected on an opposition ticket, and the matter had never been made a political issue; it just happened so. My father's business of making dog-oil was, naturally, less unpopular, though the owners of missing dogs sometimes regarded him with suspicion, which was reflected, to some extent, upon me. My father had, as silent partners, all the physicians of the town, who seldom wrote a prescription which did not contain what they were pleased to designate as Ol. can. It is really the most valuable medicine ever discovered. But most persons are unwilling to make personal sacrifices for the afflicted, and it was evident that many of the fattest dogs in town had been forbidden to play with me--a fact which pained my young sensibilities, and at one time came near driving me to become a pirate. Looking back upon those days, I cannot but regret, at times, that by indirectly bringing my beloved parents to their death I was the author of misfortunes profoundly affecting my future. One evening while passing my father's oil factory with the body of a foundling from my mother's studio I saw a constable who seemed to be closely watching my movements. Young as I was, I had learned that a constable's acts, of whatever apparent character, are prompted by the most reprehensible motives, and I avoided him by dodging into the oilery by a side door which happened to stand ajar. I locked it at once and was alone with my dead. My father had retired for the night. The only light in the place came from the furnace, which glowed a deep, rich crimson 

under one of the vats, casting ruddy reflections on the walls. Within the cauldron the oil still rolled in indolent ebullition, occasionally pushing to the surface a piece of dog. Seating myself to wait for the constable to go away, I held the naked body of the foundling in my lap and tenderly stroked its short, silken hair. Ah, how beautiful it was! Even at that early age I was passionately fond of children, and as I looked upon this cherub I could almost find it in my heart to wish that the small, red wound upon its breast--the work of my dear mother--had not been mortal. It had been my custom to throw the babes into the river which nature had thoughtfully provided for the purpose, but that night I did not dare to leave the oilery for fear of the constable. "After all," I said to myself, "it cannot greatly matter if I put it into this cauldron. My father will never know the bones from those of a puppy, and the few deaths which may result from administering another kind of oil for the incomparable ol. can. are not important in a population which increases so rapidly." In short, I took the first step in crime and brought myself untold sorrow by casting the babe into the cauldron. The next day, somewhat to my surprise, my father, rubbing his hands with satisfaction, informed me and my mother that he had obtained the finest quality of oil that was ever seen; that the physicians to whom he had shown samples had so pronounced it. He added that he had no knowledge as to how the result was obtained; the dogs had been treated in all respects as usual, and were of an ordinary breed. I deemed it my duty to explain--which I did, though palsied would have been my tongue if I could have foreseen the consequences. Bewailing their previous ignorance of the advantages of combining their industries, my parents at once took measures to repair the error. My mother removed her studio to a wing of the factory building and my duties in connection with the business ceased; I was no longer required to dispose of the bodies of the small superfluous, and there was no need of alluring dogs to their doom, for my father discarded them altogether, though they still had an honorable place in the name of the oil. So suddenly thrown into idleness, I might naturally have been expected to become vicious and dissolute, but I did not. The holy influence of my dear mother was ever about me to protect me from the temptations which beset youth, and my father was a deacon in a church. Alas, that through my fault these estimable persons should have come to so bad an end! Finding a double profit in her business, my mother now devoted herself to it with a new assiduity. She removed not only superfluous and unwelcome babes to order, but went out into the highways and byways, gathering in children of a larger growth, and even such adults as she could entice to the oilery. My father, too, enamored of the superior quality of oil produced, purveyed for his vats with diligence and zeal. The conversion of their neighbors into dog-oil became, in short, the one passion of their lives--an absorbing and overwhelming greed took possession of their souls and served them in place of a hope in Heaven--by which, also, they were inspired. So enterprising had they now become that a public meeting was held and resolutions passed severely censuring them. It was intimated by the chairman that any further raids upon the population would be met in a spirit of hostility. My poor parents left the meeting broken-hearted, desperate and, I believe, not altogether sane. Anyhow, I deemed it prudent not to enter the oilery with them that night, but slept outside in a stable. At about midnight some mysterious impulse caused me to rise and peer through a window into the furnace-room, where I knew my father now slept. The fires were burning as brightly as if the following day's harvest had been expected to be abundant. One of the large cauldrons was slowly "walloping" with a mysterious appearance of self-restraint, as if it bided its time to put forth its full energy. My father was not in bed; he had risen in his night clothes and was preparing a noose in a strong cord. From the looks which he cast at the door of my mother's bedroom I knew too well the purpose that he had in mind. Speechless and motionless with terror, I could do nothing in prevention or warning. Suddenly the door of my mother's apartment was opened, noiselessly, and the two confronted each other, both apparently surprised. The lady, also, was in her night clothes, and she held in her right hand the tool of her trade, a long, narrow-bladed dagger.

She, too, had been unable to deny herself the last profit which the unfriendly action of the citizens and my absence had left her. For one instant they looked into each other's blazing eyes and then sprang together with indescribable fury. Round and round, the room they struggled, the man cursing, the woman shrieking, both fighting like demons--she to strike him with the dagger, he to strangle her with his great bare hands. I know not how long I had the unhappiness to observe this disagreeable instance of domestic infelicity, but at last, after a more than usually vigorous struggle, the combatants suddenly moved apart. My father's breast and my mother's weapon showed evidences of contact. For another instant they glared at each other in the most unamiable way; then my poor, wounded father, feeling the hand of death upon him, leaped forward, unmindful of resistance, grasped my dear mother in his arms, dragged her to the side of the boiling cauldron, collected all his failing energies, and sprang in with her! In a moment, both had disappeared and were adding their oil to that of the committee of citizens who had called the day before with an invitation to the public meeting. Convinced that these unhappy events closed to me every avenue to an honorable career in that town, I removed to the famous city of Otumwee, where these memoirs are written with a heart full of remorse for a heedless act entailing so dismal a commercial disaster.

                       Reasons for falling IiL

       

   The significance of ‘Health’

We have heard the

word ‘health’ being used

quite frequently. We use it

ourselves as well as for

people around us when we

say things like ‘my grandmother’s health

is not good’. Our teachers use it when they

scold us saying ‘this is not a healthy

attitude’. Now, the question what exactly

does the word ‘health’ mean? If we think

about it, we realise that it always implies

the idea of ‘being well’. We can think of

this well-being as ability for effective

functioning. Incase of our grandmothers,

their being able to go out to the market or

to visit neighbours is ‘being well’, and not

being able to do such things is ‘poor health’.

Being interested in following the

teaching in the classroom so that we can

understand the world would be called a

‘healthy attitude’; while not being interested

would be called the opposite.

 ‘Health’ is therefore a state of being

well enough to function physically,

mentally and socially with optimum

efficiency.

Personal and community issues,

both matter for health:

If health means a state of physical,

mental and social well-being, it cannot be

something that each one of us can achieve

entirely on our own. The health of all

organisms will depend on their

surroundings or environment. The

environment includes the physical

environment. For example every one’s

health is at risk in a cyclone. But even more

importantly, human beings live in societies.

Our social environment, therefore, is an

important factor in our individual health.

We live in villages, towns or cities. In such

places, even our physical environment is

decided by our social environment.

Consider what would happen if no agency

is ensuring that garbage is collected and

disposed. What would happen if no one

takes responsibility for clearing the drains

and ensuring that water does not collect in

the streets or open spaces? So, if there is a

great deal of garbage thrown in our streets,

or if there is open drain water lying stagnant

around where we live, the possibility of ill

health. Therefore, cleanliness of

surroundings is very important for

individual health.

Distinctions between ‘Healthy’

and ‘Disease free’

If this is what we mean by ‘health’,

what do we mean by ‘disease’? The word is

actually self-explanatory – we can think of

it as disturbed ease. Disease, in other

words, literally means being

uncomfortable. However, the word is used

in a more limited meaning. We talk of

disease when we can find a specific and

particular cause for discomfort. This does

not mean that we have to know the absolute

final cause; we can say that someone is

suffering from diarrhoea without knowing

exactly what has caused the loose motions.

We can now easily see that it is possible to

be in poor health without actually suffering from a particular disease. Simply not

being diseased is not the same as being

healthy. ‘Good health’ for a dancer may

mean being able to stretch his/her body into

difficult but graceful positions. On the

other hand, good health for a musician may

mean having enough breathing capacity in

his/her lungs to control the notes from his/

her flute. To have the opportunity to realise

the unique potential in all of us is also necessary for good health. So, we can be in

poor health without there being a simple

cause in the form of an identifiable disease.

This is the reason why, when we think about

health, we think about societies and communities. On the other hand, when we think

about disease, we think about individual

sufferers.

z State any two conditions essential

for good health.

z State any two conditions essential

for being free of disease.

Disease and its causes:

What does disease look like ?

Activity:

Form a group with five students. List

out some diseases and their symptoms. Let

us now think a little more about diseases.

In the first place, how do we know that there

is a disease? In other words, how do we

know that there is something wrong with

the body? There are many tissues in the

body. These tissues make up physiological

systems or organ systems that carry out

body functions. Each of the organ systems

has specific organs as its parts, and it has

particular functions. So, the digestive

system has the stomach and intestines, and

it helps to digest food taken in from outside

the body. The musculoskeletal system,

which is made up of bones and muscles,

holds the body parts together and helps the

body move.

When there is a disease, either the

functioning or the appearance of one or

more systems of the body will change for

the worse.

These changes give rise to symptoms

and signs of disease. Symptoms of disease

are the things we feel as being ‘wrong’. So,

we have headache, cough, loose motions

and wound with pus; these are all symptoms.

These indicate that there may be a

disease, but they do not indicate what the

disease is. For example, a headache may

mean just examination stress or, very

rarely, it may mean meningitis, or any one

of a dozen different diseases.

Signs of disease are what physicians

will look for on the basis of the symptoms.

Signs will give a little more definite

indication of the presence of a particular

disease. Physicians will also get laboratory

tests done to pinpoint the disease further.

Acute and chronic diseases:

The manifestations of disease will be

different depending on a number of factors.

One of the most obvious factors that

determine how we perceive the disease is

its duration. Some diseases last for only

very short periods of time, and these are

called acute diseases. We all know from

experience that the common cold lasts only

a few days. Other ailments can last for a

long time, even as much as a lifetime, and

are called chronic diseases. An example is

the infection causing elephantiasis, which

is very common in some parts of India.

Acute Chronic diseases and poor

health:

As we can imagine, acute and chronic

diseases have different effects on our

health. Any disease that causes poor

functioning of some part of the body will

affect our general health as well. This is

because all functions of the body are

necessary for general health. But an acute

disease, which is terminated very soon, will

not have time to cause major effects on

general health, while a chronic disease will

do so.

As an example, think about a cough

and cold, which all of us have from time to

time. Most of us get better and become well

within a week or so. And there are no bad

effects on our health. We do not lose

weight, we do not become short of breath,

we do not feel tired all the time because of

a few days of cough and cold. But if we get

infected with a chronic disease such as

tuberculosis of the lungs, then being ill

over the years does make us lose weight

and feel tired all the time. We may not go

to school for a few days if we have an acute

disease. But a chronic disease will make it

difficult for us to follow what is being

taught in school and reduce our ability to

learn. In other words, we are likely to have

prolonged ill health if we have a chronic

disease. Chronic diseases therefore, have

very drastic, long-term effects on people’s

health as compared to acute diseases.

Causes of diseases:

What are the causes for diarrhoea,

T.B.? How do they spread? When we think

about causes of diseases, we must

remember that there are many levels of

such causes. Let us look at an example. If

there is a baby suffering from loose

motions, we can say that the cause of the

loose motions is an infection with a virus.

So the immediate cause of the disease is a

virus.

But the next question is – where did

the virus come from? Suppose we find that

the virus came through unclean drinking

water. But many babies must have had this

unclean drinking water. So, why is it that

one baby developed loose motions when

the other babies did not?

One reason might be that this baby is

not healthy. As a result, it might be more

likely to have disease when exposed to such

risk, whereas healthier babies would not.

Why is the baby not healthy? Perhaps

because it is not well nourished and does

not get enough food. So, lack of good

nourishment becomes a second level cause

of the disease the baby is suffering from.

Further, why is the baby not well nourished?

Perhaps because it is from a household

which is poor.

It is also possible that the baby has

some genetic difference that makes it more

likely to suffer from loose motions when

exposed to such a virus. Without the virus,

the genetic difference or the poor

nourishment alone would not lead to loose

motions. But they do become contributory

causes of the disease.

Infectious and non-infectious

causes:

As we have seen, it is important to

keep public health and community health

factors in mind when we think about causes

of diseases. We can take that approach a

little further. It is useful to think of the

immediate causes of disease as belonging

to two distinct types. One group of causes

is the infectious agents, mostly microbes

or micro-organisms.

Diseases where microbes are the

immediate causes are called infectious

diseases. This is because the microbes can

spread in the community, and the diseases

they cause will spread with them.

z Do all diseases spread to people

coming in contact with a sick person?

z What are the diseases that are not

spreading?

z How would a person develop those

diseases that do not spread by contact

with a sick person?

On the other hand, there are also

diseases that are not caused by infectious

agents. Their causes vary, but they are not

external causes like microbes that can

spread in the community. Instead, these are

mostly internal, non-infectious causes.

Infectious Diseases

Infectious agents:

We have seen that the entire diversity seen in the living world can be classified into a

few groups. This classification is based on common characteristics between different

organisms. Organisms that can cause disease are found in a wide range of such categories

of classification. Some of them are viruses, some are bacteria, some are fungi, some are

single-celled animals or protozoans. Some diseases are also caused by multicellular

organisms, such as worms and insects of different kinds.

            Earthworms

                   Bugs

Common examples of diseases

caused by viruses are the common cold,

influenza, dengue fever and AIDS. Diseases

like typhoid fever, cholera, tuberculosis and

anthrax are caused by bacteria. Many

common skin infections are caused by

different kinds of fungi. Microorganisms

like protozoan cause diseases like Malaria

(Plasmodium) and Kala-Azar (Leishmania). 

All of us have also come across

intestinal worm infections, as well as

diseases like elephantiasis caused by

different species of worms.

Why is it important that we think of

these categories of infectious agents? The

answer is that these categories are

important factors in deciding what kind of

treatment to use. Members of each one of

these groups – viruses, bacteria, and so on

– have many biological characteristics in

common.

                Bacteria

Organ-specific and Tissue specific manifestations:

The disease-causing microbes enter

the body through these different means.

Where do they go then? The body is very

large when compared to the microbes. So

there are many possible places, organs or

tissues, where they could go. Do all

microbes go to the same tissue or organ,

or do they go to different ones?

Different species of microbes seem

to have evolved to home in on different

parts of the body. In part, this selection is

connected to their point of entry. If they

enter from the air via the nose, they are

likely to go to the lungs. This is seen in the

bacteria causing tuberculosis. If they enter

through the mouth, they can stay in the gut

lining like typhoid causing bacteria. Or they

can go to the liver, like the viruses that

cause jaundice.

The signs and symptoms of a disease

will thus depend on the tissue or organ

which the microbe targets. If the lungs are

the targets, then symptoms will be cough

and breathlessness. If the liver is targeted,

there will be jaundice. If the brain is the

target, we will observe headaches,

vomiting, fits or unconsciousness. We can

imagine what the symptoms and signs of

an infection will be if we know what the

target tissue or organ is, and the functions

that are carried out by this tissue or organ.

It is also important to remember that

the severity of disease manifestations

depend on the number of microbes in the

body. If the number of microbes is very

small, the disease manifestations may be

minor or unnoticed. But if the number of

the same microbe is large, the disease can

be severe enough to be life-threatening.

The immune system is a major factor that

determines the number of microbes

surviving in the body.

Principles of treatment:

What are the steps taken by your

family when you fall sick? Have you ever

thought why you sometimes feel better if

you sleep for some time? When does the

treatment involve medicines?

Based on what we have learnt so far,

it would appear that there are two ways to

treat an infectious disease. One would be

to reduce the effects of (or control) the

disease and the other to kill the cause of

the disease. For the first, we can provide

treatment that will reduce the symptoms.

The symptoms are usually because of

inflammation. For example, we can take

medicines that bring down fever, reduce

pain or loose motions. We can take bed rest

so that we can conserve our energy. which

may be directed to healing.

But this kind of symptom-directed

treatment by itself may not kill the

infecting microbe go away and the disease

may not be cured. For that, we need to kill

the disease causing microbes.

How do we kill microbes? One way

is to use medicines that kill microbes. We

have seen earlier that microbes can be

classified into different categories. They

are viruses, bacteria, fungi and protozoa.

Each of these groups of organisms will have

some essential biochemical life process

which is peculiar to that group and not

shared with the other groups. These

processes may be pathways for the

synthesis of new substances or medication.

These pathways will not be used by

us either. For example, our cells may make

new substances by a mechanism different

from that used by bacteria. We have to find

a drug that blocks the bacterial synthesis

of pathway without affecting our own. This

is what is achieved by the antibiotics that

we are all familiar with. Similarly, there are

drugs that kill protozoa such as the malarial

parasite.

Principles of prevention:

All of what we have talked about so

far deals with how to get rid of an infection

in someone who has the disease. But there

are three limitations of this approach to

dealing with infectious disease. The first

is that once someone has a disease, their

body functions are damaged and may never

recover completely. The second is that

treatment will take time, which means that

someone suffering from a disease is likely

to be bedridden for some time even if we

can give proper treatment. Over a period

of time the third is that the person suffering

from an infectious disease can serve as the

source from where the infection may

spread to other people. This leads to the

multiplication of the above difficulties. It

is because of such reasons that prevention

of diseases is better than their cure.

How can we prevent diseases? There

are two ways, one general and one specific

to each disease. The general ways of

preventing infections mostly relate to

preventing exposure. How can we prevent

exposure to infectious microbes?

If we look at the means of their

spreading, we can get some easy answers.

For airborne microbes, we can prevent

exposure by providing living conditions that

are not overcrowded. For water-borne

microbes, we can prevent exposure by

providing safe drinking water. This can be

done by treating the water to kill any

microbial contamination. For vector-borne

infections, we can provide clean

environments for example, free of breeding

ground of infectious disease causing

organisms and their vectors. In other words,

public hygiene is one basic key to the

prevention of infectious diseases.