The Chemistry of Cookery

holiday to a farm-house in Shropshire, where many happy and health-giving holidays have been spent by all the members of my family. At the end of two or three weeks he was attacked by scarlet fever, and suffered severely. He afterwards learned that the cowboy had been ill, and further inquiry proved that his illness was scarlet fever, though not acknowledged to be such; that he had milked before the scaling of the skin that follows the eruption could have been completed, and it was therefore most probable that some of the scales from his hands fell into the milk. My son drank freely of uncooked milk, the other inmates of the farm drinking home-brewed beer, and only taking milk in tea or coffee hot enough to destroy the vitality of fever germs. He alone suffered. This infection was the more remarkable, inasmuch as a few months previously he had been assisting a medical man in a crowded part of London where scarlet fever was prevalent, and had come into frequent contact with patients in different stages of the disease without suffering infection. Had the milk from this farm been sent to London in the usual manner in cans, and the contents of these particular cans mixed with those of the rest received by the vendor, the whole of his stock might have been infected. As some thousands of farms contribute to the supplying of London with milk, the risk of such contact with infected hands occurring occasionally in one or another of them is very great, and fully justifies me in urgently recommending the manager of every household to strictly enforce the boiling of every drop of milk that enters the house. At the temperature of 212° the vitality of all _dangerous_ germs is destroyed, and the boiling point of milk is a little above 212°. The temperature of tea or coffee, as ordinarily used, may do it, but is not to be relied upon. I need only refer generally to the cases of wholesale infection that have recently been traced to the milk of particular dairies, as the