she continued, ignoring the sniffs of remonstrance from her two listeners. ``Then I'll know just how many calories to give each of you. They say a man of average size and weight, and sedentary occupation, should have at least 2,000 calories--and some authorities say 3,000--in this proportion:
proteins, 300 calories, fats, 350 calories, carbohydrates, 1,350 calories. But you both are taller than five feet five inches, and I should think you weighed more than 145 pounds; so I can't tell just yet how many calories you will need.''
``How many we will need, indeed!'' ejaculated Bertram.
``But, my dear, you know I have to have my eggs,'' began Uncle William again, in a worried voice.
``Of course you do, dear; and you shall have them,'' soothed Billy, brightly. ``It's only that I'll have to be careful and balance up the other things for the day accordingly. Don't you see?
Now listen. We'll see what eggs are.'' She turned the leaves rapidly. ``Here's the food table. It's lovely. It tells everything. I never saw anything so wonderful. A--b--c--d--e --here we are. `Eggs, scrambled or boiled, fats and proteins, one egg, 100.' If it's poached it's only 50; but you like yours boiled, so we'll have to reckon on the 100. And you always have two, so that means 200 calories in fats and proteins. Now, don't you see? If you can't have but 300 proteins and 350 fats all day, and you've already eaten 200 in your two eggs, that'll leave just--er--450 for all the rest of the day,--of fats and proteins, you understand. And you've no idea how fast that'll count up. Why, just one serving of butter is 100 of fats, and eight almonds is another, while a serving of lentils is 100 of proteins. So you see how it'll go.''
``Yes, I see,'' murmured Uncle William, casting a mournful glance about the generously laden table, much as if he were bidding farewell to a departing friend. ``But if I should want more to eat--'' He stopped helplessly, and Bertram's aggrieved voice filled the pause.
``Look here, Billy, if you think I'm going to be measured for an egg and weighed for an almond, you're much mistaken; because I'm not.
I want to eat what I like, and as much as I like, whether it's six calories or six thousand!''
Billy chuckled, but she raised her hands in pretended shocked protest.
``Six thousand! Mercy! Bertram, I don't know what would happen if you ate that quantity;but I'm sure you couldn't paint. You'd just have to saw wood and dig ditches to use up all that vital energy.''
``Humph!'' scoffed Bertram.
``Besides, this is for _efficiency_,'' went on Billy, with an earnest air. ``This man owns up that some may think a 2,000 calory ration is altogether too small, and he advises such to begin with 3,000 or even 3,500--graded, of course, according to a man's size, weight, and occupation. But he says one famous man does splendid work on only 1,800 calories, and another on even 1,600.
But that is just a matter of chewing. Why, Bertram, you have no idea what perfectly wonderful things chewing does.''
``Yes, I've heard of that,'' grunted Bertram;``ten chews to a cherry, and sixty to a spoonful of soup. There's an old metronome up-stairs that Cyril left. You might bring it down and set it going on the table--so many ticks to a mouthful, I suppose. I reckon, with an incentive like that to eat, just about two calories would do me. Eh, William?''
``Bertram! Now you're only making fun,''
chided Billy; ``and when it's really serious, too.
Now listen,'' she admonished, picking up the book again. `` `If a man consumes a large amount of meat, and very few vegetables, his diet will be too rich in protein, and too lacking in carbohydrates. On the other hand, if he consumes great quantities of pastry, bread, butter, and tea, his meals will furnish too much energy, and not enough building material.' There, Bertram, don't you see?''
``Oh, yes, I see,'' teased Bertram. ``William, better eat what you can to-night. I foresee it's the last meal of just _food_ we'll get for some time.
Hereafter we'll have proteins, fats, and carbohydrates made into calory croquettes, and--''
``Bertram!'' scolded Billy.
But Bertram would not be silenced.
``Here, just let me take that book,'' he insisted, dragging the volume from Billy's reluctant fingers.
``Now, William, listen. Here's your breakfast to-morrow morning: strawberries, 100 calories;whole-wheat bread, 75 calories; butter, 100calories (no second helping, mind you, or you'd ruin the balance and something would topple);boiled eggs, 200 calories; cocoa, 100 calories--which all comes to 570 calories. Sounds like an English bill of fare with a new kind of foreign money, but 'tisn't, really, you know. Now for luncheon you can have tomato soup, 50 calories;potato salad--that's cheap, only 30 calories, and--'' But Billy pulled the book away then, and in righteous indignation carried it to the kitchen.
``You don't deserve anything to eat,'' she declared with dignity, as she returned to the dining-room.
``No?'' queried Bertram, his eyebrows uplifted. ``Well, as near as I can make out we aren't going to get--much.''
But Billy did not deign to answer this.
In spite of Bertram's tormenting gibes, Billy did, for some days, arrange her meals in accordance with the wonderful table of food given in ``Correct Eating for Efficiency.'' To be sure, Bertram, whatever he found before him during those days, anxiously asked whether he were eating fats, proteins, or carbohydrates; and he worried openly as to the possibility of his meal's producing one calory too much or too little, thus endangering his ``balance.''
