any one else can what I require
to build me up and make me as I was before I met with this strange
change of condition. I remember telling the Doctor, on his first visit
to my room, that I only needed biscuit and milk and beef tea to make me
well. He rose to his feet and said, "I know better than any other man."
That was all I heard him say, and he walked out, leaving me without a
word of sympathy, or a promise that I should have anything. I say to
myself (as I always talk aloud to myself when not well), "You don't know
any more than this old woman does." I take tea with Mrs. Mills; I don't
like to look at those patients who look so wretched.

I can't bear to see myself in the glass, I am so wasted--so miserable.
My poor boys, no wonder you look so sad, to see your mother looking so
badly, and be compelled to leave her here alone among strangers who know
nothing about her past life. They don't seem to have any respect for me.
If I were the most miserable woman in the city of St. John, I would be
entitled to better treatment at the hands of those who are paid by the
Province to make us as comfortable as they can, by keeping us warmed and
fed, as poor feeble invalids should be kept.

December 20.--I have made myself quite happy this week, thinking of what
Christmas may bring to many childish hearts, and how I once tried to
make my own dear boys happy at Christmas time. I helped poor Maggy to
make artificial flowers for a wreath she herself had made of cedar. She
was making it for some friend in the Asylum. She never goes out; she
wishes to go sometimes, but Mrs. Mills scolds her a little, then she
works on and says no more about it. Poor Maggy! there is nothing ailing
her but a little too much temper. She does all the dining-room
work--washes dishes and many other things.

January.--They have had a festival; it was made, I suppose, to benefit
some one here; I don't know whom. It certainly did not benefit me any;
no one invited me to go to the church where the festival was held, but
Dr. Crookshank, the Assistant Physician, looked at me very kindly and
said, "Do come, Mrs. Pengilly, you may as well come." I looked at my
dress (it is grey flannel, and I have had no other to change since I
came here), "I can't go looking like this; I must be a little better
dressed to go into a public meeting of any kind; I am not accustomed to
go looking like this, with nothing on my neck." He said, "Very well,
something shall come to