The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1916-04-08
FROM THE DOCTORS DIARY

Or course, it's simply a case of
auto-suggestiUti IT must be auto-sug-
gestion. And yet.
Well, even Freudean psychology,
can't quite explain everything-that
is, everything about everything. And
in this remarkable case of auto-sug-
gestiOn where can we hit upon the
adequate original stimuli? The girl
is manifcstly neither morbid nor neu-
rOtic; in all other respects, indeed,
she seems sane and normal. | would
be willing to youch for the soundness
of every inch Of her cortical area !;
she is not the sort of person who goes
crazy in spots" | confess it battles
me. | think I'll put these notes into
technical German and send them to
old Rothberg of Berlin. Muybe--t say
maybe-he will be able to solve the
problem.
1t is now nearly O'Clock III the
morning. Perhaps that is one reason
why this seems so much Of prob
lem to me, for reach My maximum
Of mental expression at four. Who
knows? The whole thing may be as
clear as daylight tomorrow afternoon
But the thing haunts me, all the
same; yes, haunts, for there is some
thing uncanny about it all. ] know
| can't sleep tonight. And I'm glad
my wife and little Nellie are at the
Springs, for they'd get on my nerves
aWfully if they tried to talk. Talk
Why the thing has saddled me so that
couldn't talk to Ralph my prince
of chauffeurs, all the way home from
the sanitarium | saw the boy was
surprised-and chagrined, too-when
| climbed into the tonneau instead of
taking my customary place at his
side. Oh, confound all girls, say
especially girls with transparent skin
and steady blue eyes and hair of fine
spun gold,
Well l know that the only thing
for me to do right now is to sit down
here by the window in my bathrobe
and feel the cool breeze that blows
over the sleeping city and scratch
down on this pad just what comes
into my mind. The whole thing is
an obsession, and I'm determined to
get it out of my system.
Clara would say I've been drinking
again; but, as usual Clara would
be wrong. Drinking, forsooth, at the
Krodin Sanitarium! A mere sip at a
oil IF imh
white wine is all I've had tonight If
I'm drunk, 0 wife of my heart, not
alcohol has done the job, but mystery,
Here, now. Let me get the facts in
order. The invitation came to attend
the nurses graduation, and ! went as
matter of course. They do the thing
handsomely at the Krodin Sanitarium,
it was a full dress affair. / dozed a
little, a very little, during the vale
dictory-the girl who read it might
be really pretty if she could only
manage to secure a little more re-
serve of manner, | can't see how they
ever let her through, any way; she s
too fussy to be nurse. Then came
a lot more music-two brawny girls
beating an inoffensive encores
and all. And after that
How we'll I remember Even be-
fore she had spoken a word, l jerked
on my glasses and fumbled with the
program. Helen Carmichael. I've
always had prejudice against the
surname and most of the Helens I've
met either didn't live up to the stand
ard of beauty set by the Homeric
dame or else more than surpassed
her standard of trouble-making. So
| was not biased in favor of Helen
Carmichael.
But, We gods, what a queen she
lookedl I've never found anything
particularly effective in the nurses
costume, but this girl was different.
Like all the other graduates, she wore
a white uniform with strip of black
velvet around the border of the cap.
But the others looked-well. like grad
uate nurses; she looked every inch a
princess; the nurses cap, a crown.
Then she spoke. The program called
it a recitation. 1t was more than
recitation; it was an artistic master
piece, What do you think she rem
dered? Browning's epilogue to THE
Two Poets of Croisic," And it was
faWless-absolutely flawless. Not a.
single point she missed. We saw the
poet sitting by the fire; we heard the
wife chatting on, sweetly, winsomely.
We heard the music of the competing
bards; we saw the chirping cricket
win the prize. And then, for encore
and she earned her encore Miss Car
michael showed her astonishing Yer.I
satility BY giving one of Tom DAILY 81