Health is tremendously important to a household. It can so easily govern your whole married life. I was talking to a man the other day who was looking for a new house, and he said, 'You see the trouble is, my wife can only live on sand.' It seemed awful to me-you know, not even a bit of fruit for a change. But there you are, it's all the luck of the draw. If you really are calculating enough to cross examine your wife concerning her health before you get married, there's one assurance yo ought to get out of her: and that is, a solemn undertaking that she won't decide to have a day in bed on the same day that you do I had some experience of this a week or two ago, when my wife and I had the 'flu together, and we lay moaning in adjoining rooms: the only thing we did for each other was to stagger in and take each other's temperature from time to time-and that was only because we hoped that the other one's would be a couple of points below ours, and that he'd feel-or she'd feel-in duty bound to go down and put the dog up the garden. Putting dogs up the garden is terribly important. So much so that one evening, when my temperature was a hundred and one, I went down specially to wedge the back door open all night so that the dog could put itself up. And a rather odd sort of double catastrophe took place. Because it so happened that my wife was hundred and one, too-her temperature, I mean-and she'd come down to make herself some soup. And after I'd stuffed a folded newspaper under the door to wedge it, I straightened up and cut my head on the key. When I hot upstairs to hunt for a plaster I found my wife standing there weeping, because she'd just tripped over her slippers and poured her soup in the middle of the bed. There we were, me bleeding, her crying, and the mulligatawny trickling through the mattress. The point I'm making as I'm sure you understand, is that illness in the home is best staggered. You in bed for a week, and me running up and down stairs with trays and wireless sets and doctors and the wrong library book and a brave bright smile, and then it's my turn, and you doing the running. Both together is a dead loss.