Cleanse the stuffed bosom of this perilous stuff

That feeds upon the brain.

“I recalled the reply--

Therein the patient must minister to himself.

“How fantastic it seemed. Here was that cool observer within me quoting

poetry over my own delirium without being able to allay it. What a

mystery was the brain that could become the theatre of such wild

drama. I turned my glance to the orchestra. Ah, what was that they were

playing?... Yes, it was a passage from Dvorak's American Symphony. How

familiar it was! My mind incontinently leapt to a remote scene, I saw

a well-lit room and children round the hearth and a figure at the

piano....

“It was as though the madman within me had fallen stone dead. I looked

at the stage coolly, and observed that someone was diving into the lake

from a trapeze that seemed a hundred feet high. The glare was still

behind, but I knew it for a sham glare. What a fool I had been.... But

what a hideous time I had had.... And what a close shave.... I took out

my handkerchief and drew it across my forehead.”

[Illustration: 0066]

[Illustration: 0067]

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