As they refuse to send any more thought impressions, there is nothing
further I can learn from them. Somehow, I feel that they are gaining a
hold upon my mind, and that every time I listen in on the receiver, that
hold becomes stronger. I firmly believe that I would have attacked poor
Mrs. Winslow, had not the ringing of the 'phone so opportunely
interrupted me. I have sent word for her to stay away ... as I cannot
trust myself.
I keep a box of fresh earth on the table in my laboratory. I often run
my hands through it, and taste it. It is remarkable how much this
soothes my nerves.
* * * * *
_Feb. 16._
It is too late!
For two days, I have kept my apparatus shut off. I have not so much as
looked at the ants, but still that confounded bell tone rings in my ears
with all the insistence of African tom-toms. Hour by hour ... the tone
becomes more penetrating. I cannot sleep, and can eat but little.
As a last resort, I destroyed my ant colony. I even went so far as to
pour boiling water on the four ant hills in my yard.
Still ... the bell tone persists. I can stand it no longer!
Perhaps if I were to dig ... again in the yard ... in the soothing
earth, I could forget....
* * * * *
(News Clipping: From Philadelphia Banner)