The Monticellonian., 1917-02-15
THE CARFAX CURSE.

months ago he was taken sick with a wasting disease. There is nothing or ganically wrong with him; he is just wasting away. Day by day he grows weaker, and his death seems now to be matter of few weeks only And the tragic thing is that he knows; he knows that he must die; and his only pleasure is in sitting before the dis mantfed altar in the old ruined chapel and dosing there. He has been afflict- ed With somnambulism since child hood, and whenever his attendant misses him from his bed he knows where he will be found before the al tar, fast asleep, and talking to him. self'
 The automobile swung off the high road and into the grounds of stately park, through whose vistas of ieafy trees could be seen herds of fallow deer. peacefully browsing The road swung to the right between two rows of ancient elms, and now we could see the square stone towers of Carfax, with the dismantled, ruined stone chapel upon knoll a little to the right of it. The chauffeur and butler were waiting at the door; the former took the machine to the garage, while the latter respectfully received our baggage.
 How is MT. Arthur asked Sir John.
 He seems to be better today, sir" the butler answered. He was reading in the chapel while ago. Here he comes now, sir"
 A tall, slim, gracefully built young fellow was coming slowly across the lawn and, seeing us. he stopped shyly His father called him.
 Come here, Arthur" he said Doc tor lmamnuel, this is my son about whom We were speaking He intro duced the boy to me also. How do you feel today?' he asked, anxiously
 Better. father" said the boy in an odd. emotionless tone. As he walked slowly into the house his father looked after him and then turned wistfully to us.
 He knows" he said And he doesn't seem to care That is the trag- edy of 1t. They all go like that I re member my poor brother Walter-he died In the same way. And yet the doctors can find nothing wrong with him
 Suppose I examine him at once and let you know the exact condition" :" said Immanuel cheerfully If we can't beat the curse together. with all the resources of modern science. shall be greatly surprised. What treatment is he receiving?'
 The usual thing Tonics, beef ex- tracts. iron; the physicians have ta- ken his blood count and call 1t perni- cious anemia. But they don't say how it arose. And there is nothing organ ically wrong" The poor fellow seemed to cling to that one hope.
 There is a new solution of arsenic which is used very successfully for that" said Immanuel Then again there is hypnotism. I don't know which is better. Perhaps we will try both"
 "Hypnotism," exclaimed Sir John. ''Is that the secret of your cures?'
 Tt is not exactly secret" an swered the doctor. Tt is In very com mon use among physicians today and. based upon known laws and not em- pirical."
 You mean that you can hypnotise him into thinking that he is well?.
 Yes. But any other fool could do that-only 1t wouldn't make him we'll No, sir, the principle is simply this: The greater portion of the body func- tions automatically. that is to say without the consciousness of the brain. The stomach digests whether we ask it to or not. the heart beats. the liver secretes, and so on. Now take the spleen, which seems to be behaving badly in your sons case We can't make our spleens come to order no. But under hypnotism we can get deeper; we can get down to the consciousness of these half independ- ent organs and tell them to be good And then, sometimes under hypnotism we find ourselves on very interesting trails which I cannot persuade other physicians to follow up We find other personalities at work, lost memories l fiourishing like fungus growth under smooth mosses and grasses-it is all very interesting, and some day the world will come to recognize it. But suppose we go in and l will examine the lad before dinner"
 We were led to our apartments in a wing of the old place; two rooms side by side under. low, sloping caves from which rain drops were falling dismal ly upon the slate roof of the garage below. Our host waited outside while we washed off the grime of the jour- ney.
 .'Ah. my dear Sir John, know you will not rest until I have looked at the boy" said Immanuel cheerfuny. l intercepting him as he restlessly paced the long corridor. "Come, then Where shall it be-" He was dangling his stethoseope from his finger and thumb
 i. Wed better go into the library" answered our host, and led us to a comfortable room, furnished in red morocco, on the main floor The furni- ture was of old oak, blackened with age and worm-eaten. Outside the slop- ing lawn ran up to the ivy-covered base of the chapel.
 The boy came in presently and Sir John rose to go. had hoped that I