be handed down over so many years. I have stood
almost where He has stood, once before in my life. "The foxes have
holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not
where to lay his head." I have been "led by the spirit into the
wilderness." Pontius Pilate is not here to say, "I find no sin in this
man," but there are those here who would lock me in, and never let me
set my foot outside of these walls, if they knew I was writing this with
the hope of laying it before the Province.

Yesterday was bathing-day--a cold, damp April day. No steam on; I tried
the radiators, but there was no hot air to come. The young teacher--in
whom I was so much interested, and whose name I will not give here, as
she always begged me not to mention her name--she stood with me at the
radiator trying to find some heat. The Doctor came in and I say,
"Doctor, can't you send up some coal, there is only a few red coals in
the grate, no steam on, and we are nearly frozen?" He said, "The hard
coal is all gone." "Well, send us some soft coal, wood, anything to keep
us warm." He left us; no coal came till after dinner. I met one of the
nurses in the next ward; I told her our wants, and she sent it by a
young man who was always attentive and respectful, but we could not
always find a messenger who would take the trouble to find him.

The Doctor has been in again: Mary and I were together as usual. He
looked at us very pleasantly, and I said, "You will be able to send us
home now soon, surely." He drew me away from her, saying, "I don't wish
her to hear this. Don't you know, Mr. Ring went to Annapolis and hung
himself?" "They did not watch him well," said I, and he left, thinking,
I suppose, that he had silenced me effectually. I went to Mrs. Mills,
and enquired about Mr. Ring, and learned that he had never been here,
and was quite an old man. What had that to do with us? We have no wish
to harm ourselves or any one else. I see now that is the influence he
uses to induce people to leave their friends here. My son told me one
day he had kept the Asylum so well the public were perfectly satisfied
with him; no wonder he conducts it so well when there are so few
lunatics here. I suppose he has left me here waiting for me to get
satisfied too; well, I am, but as soon as I am out I shall write to
Mary's mother to come for her, for I can hardly go and leave her here.
I have taken her in my heart as my own; she is so good a girl, wasting