for example, after lecturing in a town in Ohio, it was
necessary to drive eight miles across country to a tiny railroad station
at which a train, passing about two o'clock in the morning, was to be
flagged for me. When we reached the station it was closed, but my driver
deposited me on the platform and drove away, leaving me alone. The
night was cold and very dark. All day I had been feeling ill and in the
evening had suffered so much pain that I had finished my lecture with
great difficulty. Now toward midnight, in this desolate spot, miles from
any house, I grew alarmingly worse. I am not easily frightened, but that
time I was sure I was going to die. Off in the darkness, very far away,
as it seemed, I saw a faint light, and with infinite effort I dragged
myself toward it. To walk, even to stand, was impossible; I crawled
along the railroad track, collapsing, resting, going on again, whipping
my will power to the task of keeping my brain clear, until after a
nightmare that seemed to last through centuries I lay across the door of
the switch-tower in which the light was burning. The switchman stationed
there heard the cry I was able to utter, and came to my assistance. He
carried me up to his signal-room and laid me on the floor by the stove;
he had nothing to give me except warmth and shelter; but these were now
all I asked. I sank into a comatose condition shot through with pain.
Toward two o'clock in the morning he waked me and told me my train was
coming, asking if I felt able to take it. I decided to make the effort.
He dared not leave his post to help me, but he signaled to the train,
and I began my progress back to the station. I never clearly remembered
how I got there; but I arrived and was helped into a car by a brakeman.
About four o'clock in the morning I had to change again, but this time I
was left at the station of a town, and was there met by a man whose wife
had offered me hospitality. He drove me to their home, and I was cared
for. What I had, it developed, was a severe case of ptomaine poisoning,
and I soon recovered; but even after all these years I do not like to
recall that night.

To be "snowed in" was a frequent experience. Once, in Minnesota, I was
one of a dozen travelers who were driven in an omnibus from a country
hotel to the nearest railroad station, about two miles away. It was
snowing hard, and the driver left us on the station platform and
departed. Time passed, but the train we were wai