SOULIMISTS. 



69 



stared, wondering at the strange face. 

 What had made him like this? That 

 morning he had been happy. He sat down 

 and began to write, feverishly, shakingly, 

 as if he feared he might never finish. 



"Amy — I must go. I can't marry you. 

 You aren't what I thought. You've de- 

 ceived me. You aren't innocent and good 

 and tender-hearted. You're cruel and vain 

 and lustful. God forgive 111c! God for- 

 give us if we have made you what you 

 are, if it's to please us that you have made 

 such savages of yourselves. When I saw 

 those wings in your hair — no, I can't go 

 on. God and man have to forgive you 

 for what you have done. Men aren't good, 

 but they aren't cruel — wantonly, vainly 

 cruel. Better, a thousand times, that you 

 should sell yourself, yes, your soul, too. 

 than murder the tenderness of a thousand 

 innocent children by your fearful example. 

 Forgive me for saying I don't love you. 

 How can I? Oh, Amy!" 



Into the envelope with this he put the 

 torn picture. 



It was early morning when he came 

 through the wood and reached the edge of 



the sea. The tide was beginning to whis- 

 per as it Started in. Over the salt marshes 

 a flock of silver-winged gulls circled. At 

 the report of a gun one fell. The others 

 in wild flight sought escape, but an unerr- 

 ing aim brought down another. 



"You shall not live to be tortured. I 

 will save you from that; I will be merci- 

 ful," whispered Laurence, brokenly, as he 

 ran across the spongy green turf to the 

 gulls. He whispered again, softly and 

 pityingly, to the dead birds as he smoothed 

 their outstretched wings. "They shall not 

 have you; they shall not find you; I will 

 hide you safe." 



He began to gather the grass and spread 

 it over them, when a glimpse of white 

 breast glimmered through. In a sudden 

 frenzy he stamped on the spot, crushing 

 down into the ooze and mud the last ves- 

 tige of white. As he stood up, breathing 

 hard, his hands shaking, his eyes roving, 

 a long line of gulls swung past through 

 the morning air. He raised his gun; then 

 with a sad, moaning cry he turned the 

 weapon toward his head and with a stick 

 pressed the trigger. 



BOULIMISTS. 



JAS. WEIR, JR. , M. D. 



A boulimist is an individual "who bolts 

 his food, an abnormally enormous quanti- 

 ty, in an animal-like manner." Boulimia, 

 or boulimy as the English authors write it, 

 is the rule and not the exception among 

 savages or primitive peoples; hence, when 

 observed in a civilized human being, when 

 it is not a symptom of disease, must be at- 

 tributed to atavism or reversion. 



Many instances of boulimy are related by 

 travelers, especially by those discoverers 

 who have made the northern portions of the 

 globe the field for their labors. Belcher 

 declares that the food of the Innuits 

 averages 24 pounds a day, mostly of fats 

 and oils, for every individual, and 

 Captain Lyons gives the following graphic 

 account of one of these people at table: 



"Kuillitleuk had -already eaten until he 

 was half-seas over. He was dropping 

 asleep, with a red and burning face and 

 open mouth. His wife was stuffing 

 bits of half-boiled meat down his 

 throat with the help of her first fingers, 

 steering clear of his lips. She carefully 

 watched the process of deglutition, and 

 immediately filled up any void that might 

 appear in the orifice with a stopper of raw 

 fat. The happy man did not stir; he moved 

 nothing but his molars, chewing slowly and 

 not even opening his eyes. From time to 

 time a stifled sound escaped him, a grunt 

 of satisfaction." 



An Innuit, when he cannot get blubber 



or oil, will sit down to a cauldron of boiled 

 sea-weed, holding 2 gallons, and will not 

 arise therefrom until he has devoured every 

 shred in the pot! 



I have frequently seen negro farm hands 

 who would eat 6 or 8 pounds of solid 

 food at a single meal, washing it down 

 with several pints of sweet milk or 

 buttermilk. The Indian is likewise a great 

 eater and thinks nothing of disposing of a 

 deer's hindquarters at one sitting! 



Some authors have endeavored to differ- 

 entiate between gluttony and boulimy, but 

 have, in my opinion, failed most signally. 

 Boulimia and gluttony, as far as the normal 

 civilized human being is concerned, are 

 identical. The glutton, like the boulimist, 

 eats inordinately; he bolts his food in an 

 animal-like manner; he makes disagreeable 

 and brute-like noises when eating. With 

 the glutton "eating, as well as reading, 

 maketh a full man," to paraphrase GuiHe- 

 mond. "and repletion and content are syn- 

 onymous terms in his language. 'Estando 

 contento no tiene mas que desear,' says 

 Sancho Panza, and the fact is accordingly 

 announced with the accompaniment of va- 

 rious natural phenomena to which it is un- 

 necessary to allude, and which are, to say 

 the least, somewhat subversive of civ- 

 ilized and refined decorum." 



On one occasion I saw a young white man, 

 an American, eat a peck of soft peaches 

 and 3 pounds of grapes at one sitting. This 



