The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1890-07-18
CHAPTER vII.-Continued.

The door opened easily. 1t revealed
an empty closet, with set bowl at the
side, into which thin stream of water
was trickling, and running down the
escape pipe with the noise which had SO
Mortified him. Alarm gave place to
wrath. He vowed all sorts of ven
geance upon every body who had even
remotely contributed to his present
evil plight. Every body but Bessie.
He forgave her, and in thinking of her
he fell quietly asleep and was not
wakened till the light of morning
streamed into the room.
Breakfast was served to such of Jenk-
ms boarders as could be trusted outside
their cages, at eight o'clock. After par
taking of that frugal meal Dranc was
permitted to spend little while in the
parlor. 1t had no other occupant at
first excepta short, staut man with an
abundance of stiff, curly hair who sat at
a table writing. Every timo he paused
in that labor he stuck his pen behind
his ear; and when he was ready to re-
sumo his task he picked up fresh one,
forgetting what he had done with the
other. The consequence was that in a
few minutes the bushy hair over his
ear was full of pen-holders, and there
remained only the one which he was
using. Presently that joined the rcst,
and then the little man, after hunting
about the table a few minutes, gave it
up and pushed his paper from him.
''The servants here are very careless" ;"
said he to Drane. ''They always fail to
provide me with pens, although they
know the Importance of my work. And
for myself, l am so absent-mindcd, do
you know, that my forgetfulness has
been the ruin of my life. 1t is true"
He leaned toward Dranc impressively,
and continued: Il am genius. once
wrote tho greatest poem cxtanv. Then
mislaid it. For months l searched for
the manuscript, but without finding
trace of it. My cursed forgctful-
ness. Then 1 tried to remember
what was in i'm forgetfulness
again. 1 couldn't think of sim
gle line. l could remember only
that it surpassed Homer, Dante or
Shakespeare. The thought that l had
thus cast away undying famc by mere
carelessness undermined my health, I'M
til they brought me to this sanitarium.
Confcund it, ono might as we'll be hon
est about it. There's no sanitarium
about it. It's a lunatic asylum, and
for the sake of vcracity let's admit it.
Here l sit scribbling away every day,
trying vainly to hit upon the single
inspiration which for moment raised
me to an intellectual helgnJ no man mad
ever before attained. Thus far in vain.
But who knows-who knows What's
your own special brand of lunacy?"
Il am q sane man," said Drane, half
angrily.
The short man shook his head.
''Wait till you've been here while,"
said he. ''Then you'll dream dreams,
and see visions. ! was sane enough, too,
but the atmosphere of this place-you
don't know what it is. In two days
you'll have delusions. You'll see things
that aren't there-serpents of various
hues; zebras with their stripes running
from head to TAIL and revolving around
their bodies like the rings of Saturn.
That's why they've put me here.
They're jealous of me. They don't want
mo to remember the great work which l
wrote but can not find. It's a plot"
The short man was getting violent,
and presently an attendant came and re-
moved him, to Drano's great relief.
In the course of that day Drane en-
countered several interesting maniacs
of a mild order, but no serious incident