ouds obscure the vision. Optimism reigns supreme. "Failure"
and "impossible" are as words from an unknown tongue. And the unique
satisfaction about a fortune of this fugitive type is that its loss
occasions no regret. One by one the phantom ships of treasure sail away
for parts unknown; until, when the last ship has become but a speck on
the mental horizon, the observer makes the happy discovery that his
pirate fleet has left behind it a priceless wake of Reason!

XXVI

Early in March, 1902, having lived in a violent ward for nearly four
months, I was transferred to another--a ward quite as orderly as the
best in the institution, though less attractively furnished than the
one in which I had first been placed. Here also I had a room to myself;
in this instance, however, the room had not only a bed, but a chair and
a wardrobe. With this elaborate equipment I was soon able to convert my
room into a veritable studio. Whereas in the violent ward it had been
necessary for me to hide my writing and drawing materials to keep other
patients from taking them, in my new abode I was able to conduct my
literary and artistic pursuits without the annoyances which had been
inevitable during the preceding months.

Soon after my transfer to this ward I was permitted to go out of doors
and walk to the business section of the city, two miles distant. But on
these walks I was always accompanied. To one who has never surrendered
any part of his liberty such surveillance would no doubt seem irksome;
yet, to me, after being so closely confined, the ever-present attendant
seemed a companion rather than a guard. These excursions into the sane
and free world were not only a great pleasure, they were almost a
tonic. To rub elbows with normal people tended to restore my mental
poise. That the casual passer-by had no way of knowing that I was a
patient, out for a walk about the city, helped me gain that
self-confidence so essential to the success of one about to re-enter a
world from which he had long been cut off.

My first trips to the city were made primarily for the purpose of
supplying myself with writing and drawing materials. While enjoying
these welcome tastes of liberty, on more than one occasion I
surreptitiously mailed certain letters which I did not dare entrust to
the doctor. Under ordinary circumstances such an act on the part of one
enjoying a special privilege would be dishonorable. But the
circumstances that then obtain