s not surprising that the college cheers which filled the
air that afternoon, and in which only a few days earlier I had hoped to
join, struck terror to my heart.

IV

NATURALLY I was suspicious of all about me, and became more so each
day. But not until about a month later did I refuse to recognize my
relatives. While I was at Grace Hospital, my father and eldest brother
called almost every day to see me, and, though I said little, I still
accepted them in their proper characters. I remember well a
conversation one morning with my father. The words I uttered were few,
but full of meaning. Shortly before this time my death had been
momentarily expected. I still believed that I was surely about to die
as a result of my injuries, and I wished in some way to let my father
know that, despite my apparently ignominious end, I appreciated all
that he had done for me during my life. Few men, I believe, ever had a
more painful time in expressing their feelings than I had on that
occasion. I had but little control over my mind, and my power of speech
was impaired. My father sat beside my bed. Looking up at him, I said,
"You have been a good father to me."

"I have always tried to be," was his characteristic reply.

After the broken bones had been set, and the full effects of the severe
shock I had sustained had worn off, I began to gain strength. About the
third week I was able to sit up and was occasionally taken out of doors
But each day, and especially during the hours of the night, my
delusions increased in force and variety. The world was fast becoming
to me a stage on which every human being within the range of my senses
seemed to be playing a part, and that a part which would lead not only
to my destruction (for which I cared little), but also to the ruin of
all with whom I had ever come in contact. In the month of July several
thunder-storms occurred. To me the thunder was "stage" thunder, the
lightning man-made, and the accompanying rain due to some clever
contrivance of my persecutors. There was a chapel connected with the
hospital--or at least a room where religious services were held every
Sunday. To me the hymns were funeral dirges; and the mumbled prayers,
faintly audible, were in behalf of every sufferer in the world but one.

It was my eldest brother who looked after my care and interests during
my entire illness. Toward the end of July, he informed me that I was to
be taken home again. I must have gi