The energy and desire for activity with immunity from fatigue, which was the characteristic equipment of twenty years ago returned, but not, of course, the trained muscular strength or suppleness of athletic days.
The food invited by Appetite at this stage, the nutriment in which counter-balanced the waste in each twenty-four hours, consisted of about thirty ordinary mouthfuls of potato, bread, meat, or anything selected by Appetite, masticated and manipulated to the end.
One meal a day was taken for convenience, and because it seemed, under the then existing circumstances, hot summer weather, to be the time set by Nature for eating. "I rise in the morning," as a champion pugilist once put it, "when my bed gets tired of me," which at the time was usually before, or at, daylight, and began writing or other work. By one o'clock I usually was "worked out," but had already disposed of practically a day's work. Then, in the middle of the day, when all the animals rest and some of them chew the cud, I took my meal. I had not, meantime, experienced a moment of craving for anything since the meal of the day before, but I sat down with an epicurean appetite.
The article of food on the menu that first attracted me, I fixed my desire upon. At the time it was usually a meat or a fish, and there accompanied it only a cup of coffee, nine-tenths milk, bread and butter, and potato. Sometimes the meat selected was an entrée, and was garnished with rice and other fruits or vegetables.
About thirty mouthfuls of these, disposed of in something less than twenty-five hundred acts of mastication or other movement of the mouth, and taking about thirty minutes to thirty-five minutes, satisfied the appetite so perfectly that all the ices and desserts on a sumptuous bill of fare had no attraction.
In the meantime, water was drunk, in small portions slowly, and ice water at that, without restriction, to satisfy thirst, but not when any food was in process. In the mouth the water was almost instantly brought to body-temperature and its coolness was very agreeable to all the senses. I now rarely take any water except in very hot weather when perspiration is active and then only enough to quench thirst, excess giving discomfort and necessitating more perspiration. Water injures digestion by being taken with meals only because it is used to wash down food not yet prepared for the stomach. It is the unfit food that is carried down by it and not the water that does the harm.
One cup of café au lait, well sweetened, sipped and enjoyed according to the epicurean method, satisfied all desire for other sweets and created a harmony of variety that was simply perfect, while it was perfectly simple.
I did not try to work, or think, for some time after the meal; that is, I did not force thought; but reading, a cat nap, a walk, a matinée, a ball game, or a ride in a trolley car were recreations which I was able to enjoy as a sort of pousse café for two or three hours after the meal, and then the energy for work returned, so that if there were something yet to be done in the time before the accustomed bed hour, another day's work was easily accomplished.
Athletic work, physical labour, extreme activity in any form, all benefit by the same treatment, as I have since been able to prove both personally and by experiment with others. The only difference is the greater waste of tissue, and the greater need for restorage, demanding an evening meal and possibly an earlier midday meal.
Exercise, work, activity—anything that creates a demand for nutriment is the especial friend of Taste. It gives healthy appetite and hence there is plenty for Taste to do and he likes to be of service.