And I should think almost any one could get a "cold " with a spoonful of water on the wrist held to a key-hole. Singular as it may seem, sudden warming when cold is more dangerous than the reverse: every one has noticed how soon the handkerchief is required on entering a heated room on a cold day. Frost-bite is an extreme illustration of this. As the Irishman said on picking himself up, it was not the fall, but stopping so quickly, that hurt him: it is not the lowering of the temperature to freezing point, but its subsequent elevation, that devitalizes the tissue. This is why rubbing with snow, or bathing in cold water, is required to restore safely a frozen part: the arrested circulation must be very gradually re-established, or inflammation, perhaps mortification, ensues.
General precautions against taking cold are almost self-evident in this light. There is ordinarily little if any danger to be apprehended from wet clothes, so long as exercise is kept up; for the "glow" about compensates for the extra cooling by evaporation. Nor is a complete drenching more likely to be injurious than wetting of one part. But never sit still wet, and in changing rub the body dry. There is a general tendency, springing from fatigue, indolence, or indifference, to neglect damp feet,—that is to say, to dry them by the fire; but this process is tedious and uncertain. I would say especially, "Off with muddy boots and sodden socks at once:" dry stockings and slippers after a hunt may make just the difference of your being able to go out again, or never. Take care never to check perspiration: during this process the body is in a somewhat critical condition, and the sudden arrest of the function may result disastrously, even fatally. One part of the business of perspiration is to equalize bodily temperature, and it must not be interfered with. The secret of much that is said about bathing when heated lies here. A person overheated, panting it may be, with throbbing temples and a dry skin, is in danger partly because the natural cooling by evaporation from the skin is denied; and this condition is sometimes not far from a "sunstroke." Under these circumstances, a person of fairly good constitution may plunge into the water with impunity, even with benefit. But, if the body be already cooling by sweating, rapid abstraction of heat from the surface may cause internal congestion, never unattended with danger.
Drinking ice-water offers a somewhat parallel case; even on stopping to drink at the brook, when flushed with heat, it is well to bathe the face and hands first, and to taste the water before a full draught. It is a well-known excellent rule, not to bathe immediately after a full meal; because during digestion the organs concerned are comparatively engorged and any sudden disturbance of the circulation may be disastrous.
The imperative necessity of resisting drowsiness under extreme cold requires no comment.
In walking under a hot sun, the head may be sensibly protected by green leaves or grass in the hat; they may be advantageously moistened, but not enough to drip about the ears. Under such circumstances the slightest giddiness, dimness of sight, or confusion of ideas, should be taken as a warning of possible sunstroke, instantly demanding rest, and shelter if practicable.
HUNGER AND FATIGUE
are more closely related than they might seem to be: one is a sign that the fuel is out, and the other asks for it. Extreme fatigue, indeed, destroys appetite: this simply means temporary incapacity for digestion. But, even far short of this, food is more easily digested and better relished after a little preparation of the furnace. On coming home tired it is much better to make a leisurely and reasonably nice toilet, than to eat at once, or to lie still thinking how tired you are; after a change and a wash you feel like a "new man," and go to the table in capital state. Whatever dietetic irregularities a high state of civilization may demand or render practicable, a normally healthy person is inconvenienced almost as soon as his regular mealtime passes without food; and few can work comfortably or profitably fasting over six or eight hours. Eat before starting; if for a day's tramp, take a lunch; the most frugal meal will appease if it do not satisfy hunger, and so postpone its urgency. As a small scrap of practical wisdom, I would add, Keep the remnants of the lunch if there be any; for you cannot always be sure of getting in to supper.
STIMULATION.
When cold, fatigued, depressed in mind, and on other occasions, you may feel inclined to resort to artificial stimulus. Respecting this many-sided theme I have a few words to offer—of direct bearing on the collector's case. It should be clearly understood, in the first place, that a stimulant confers no strength whatever: it simply calls the powers that be into increased action, at their own expense. Seeking real strength in stimulus is as wise as an attempt to lift yourself up by your boot-straps. You may gather yourself to leap the ditch, and you clear it; but no such muscular energy can be sustained: exhaustion speedily renders further expenditure impossible. But now suppose a very powerful mental impression be made, say the circumstance of a succession of ditches in front, and a mad dog behind: if the stimulus of terror be sufficiently strong, you may leap on till you drop senseless. Alcoholic stimulus is a parallel case, and is not seldom pushed to the same extreme. Under its influence you never can tell when you are tired; the expenditure goes on, indeed, with unnatural rapidity, only it is not felt at the time; but the upshot is, you have all the original fatigue to endure and to recover from, plus the fatigue resulting from over-excitation of the system. Taken as a fortification against cold, alcohol is as unsatisfactory as a remedy for fatigue. Insensibility to cold does not imply protection. The fact is, the exposure is greater than before; the circulation and respiration being hurried, the waste is greater; and, as sound fuel cannot be immediately supplied, the temperature of the body is soon lowered. The transient warmth and glow over the system has both cold and depression to endure. There is no use in borrowing from yourself, and fancying you are richer.
Secondly, the value of any stimulus (except in a few exigencies of disease or injury) is in proportion, not to the intensity, but to the equableness and durability, of its effect. This is one reason why tea, coffee, and articles of corresponding qualities, are preferable to alcoholic drinks: they work so smoothly that their effect is often unnoticed, and they "stay by" well. The friction of alcohol is tremendous in comparison. A glass of grog may help a veteran over the fence; but no one, young or old, can shoot all day on whiskey.