The San Francisco call., 1897-11-14

ing sound;
What was good shall be good, with, for evil,
so much good more;
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heavens
perfect round.
That's for RENE m brance. You under
stand ?"
understand. Albeit it is not rosemary.
this spray of sorrowful Californian pine L
hold in my hand; neither has it been
gwen me by a typical Ophelia. She Is
plump and well favored. with the comell-
ness of contented middle age, and her
smile as she turns. lingering, away, is
tender rather than melancholy. But
glance at my surroundings, at the fenced
in grounds at the magnificent architec.
tural pile where lock and key reign
supreme, at the faces innumerable
stamped with disease or sorrow. And L
fancy l unders and very IL indeed.
They crowd around me, these weary,
restless waits OF life, whose one cry is that
which stirs all hearts, the cry for liberty.
You have not come here to s;ay"' asks
one sad-faced white-haired woman.
mo. At least. not yet.
The correction slips out unawares, an
outburst OF the intense sympathy. the
bond of common humanity that is throb-
blng between me and my suffering COM
panions.
"Ah," she says simply. 81 thought not.
You look happy"
But you are not unhappy, living in this
beautiful placer"
lively, perhaps not. Oh, to get out, if
you only knew-to get out to feel free TO
go-but l have nowhere 10 go.
l dare not trust my voice; my tears lie
too near l.. 1t is the same pitiful wall |
hear from all. the wall of Stern's startling:
II can't get out" One takes my arm
gently.
Come away," she says, ''come and talk
with me and my friends where We can't
be heard" and her glance indicates the
att endant. You seem kind and we want
to talk to you sensibly; we're not all in
sane, you know, even though we do hap
pen to be here"
1t is an unexpected way OF putting
things and answer becomes difficult:
! "Well, 1 suppose daresay-you are
glad to stay here and rest2'
Some of us are not at all glad to stay
here and do not require rest"
"No,' breaks in another, many hus-
band is glad to put his wife TO rest in here
while he lives with another woman, and
she mods her head cheerlully.
This IS sckeningly reminiscent OF the
sane tittle-tattle heard outside asylums. l
turn quickly:
This is surely not your case?"
''Oh, dear, no; l have no husband to
com plain O., but there is somebody else.
a very bad person. who is glad TO keep me
here, and | am we'll now and ough to go
away. ] always earned my own living,
and | might just as well work outside as
here"
And then the cruel things that are
done here" whispers one, you should
just stay and see.'
Yes, know. For though unnecessary
suffering had been banished from the
modern asylum, neither science nor phil
ianthrophy have yet devised substitute
for the strapped bed, tie strait waist
coat and the padded cell. Have l not just
seen strong. laughing girl, who begged
me to come and see them soon, I"
strapped to her bench? If the Nancy
school of cure work gain sway, If ortho-
dox science and hypnotic suggestion join
hands. we may po, sibly see the day when
violence need not be met by violence.
Till then we are dependent on restraints
which necessarily seem cruel.
Anyway" comments a voice beside
me- however nice the place may be, how
would you like to be locked up with all
these people? To feel sane. TO be able to
think and reason, and yet always watched
when you are outside, always locked up
as soon as you go III, to live behind lock
and kew, to be locked at night with
others, into your bedroom. your clothes
taken away till morning. How would you
feel?'
am perfectly satisfied that [ should
feel very mad before many sunrises. but
it would not be prudent to say So.
Ophelia saunters back with her quiet
smile.
For remem mbrance," she repeats, lever
green. You understand the meaning? ?'
Then, looking toward my husband where
he stands apart with pity in his eyes, "Ex-
cuse me, but are you minister's wife ?"
mo. we write"
"Novels2'
Novels and newspaper articles"
'Ah. write, too, sermons and verses
but only under inspiration. Good SER
mons, too, sent me by God. l" (sbe
pauses shyly). II have written some
verses to-day, but perhaps you have no
time to look at them?"
have plenty of time, and as l take a
written paper from her she adds, still
shyly: II would like you SO much to write
your name; l like to remember FREUD s
name. Mine is"
Now, 1 have promised not to ask any
patients name, and l have an old-fash-
ioned prejudice against breaking my
word. But [ certainly have not promised
TO refuse volunteered information, and
exchange courtesies by producing card
from my pocket book. Instantly there is
a request for more; names are mentioned
or hurrieGly scribbled on bits of paper
addressed letters are slipped into my bag,
again and again the petition strikes my
ear, "Help US, we are in such trou BILE; !; be
friend and help US to get out"
She'll do 1t. cries one more sanguine
than the rest. She'll find way of help
ing US. she's an angel"
My angel eyes are very dim as l scan
the penc!led page of inspiration al