kirmish With Ma
dies
Bv
Illustrations by Oscar Ces
I OR twelve years I had thought that
in me was latent insanity that only
needed extra mental strain to make
active. The usual mental strain in
cident to short story writing was
always with me, and I had eased it
bv moderate drinking. In this I had
a better excuse than had Jack London, who drank
because of suggestion and availability, but I do
not offer it as an excuse only as an explanation.
Alcohol, by the way, never was a mental stimulant
to me, only an inhibition of troubling thought,
mainly of my coming madness, enabling me to con
centrate my 'mind on my work. Until my physical
health gave out it worked well, as I never got
drunk and could always turn down an invitation
if I felt that I had enough. Hut some three years
prior to this writing I met witli an accident, and,
. i . . 1' 1 .j ct -
uemg poor, sougnt no meaicai aueinion. oo, im
bued with an early code of conduct which decrees
that a man must not quit work until he drops in
liis tracks I limped around until rheumatism set
in. For years I could not sleep at night without
an opiate. And then one day, with fifteen cents in
my pocket, and not knowing where the next money
was to come from, I told my trouble to a friend
who listened sympathetically.
"The hospital for you," he said at length; and,
for half an hour he kept the telephone busy, call
ing up tho powers that be ill New York, then said
to me: "Go down to Bellevue in the morning and
see the Medical Superintendent. I've had him on
the wire, and he'll take care of you."
And now, having thrown up my hands, a strange
Itranquillity came to me, utterly at variance with
"jny habit of mind, which had never known tran
quillity or peace except after some temporary vic-
tory m tne uaiue or. me. i sicpi wen inai ingiii,
and with the nerve of a gambler signed a check
for a good breakfast in a chop house where I had spent much money and owed
none, then with my fifteen cents in my pocket, started for Bellevue Hospital,
a mile distant. I remember that a policeman stopped me close to the hospital,
and allowed me to proceed on my staggering way when I stammered: "Bellevue."
I staggered from weakness, for I had drunk nothing that day. The next I
remember was talking to the Medical Superintendent, a man who listened to me
kindlv. but whose face I would not recognize now.
ABOUT all I can recall of the interview is that I said I needed help from the
outside that, while I had been able to advise and assist others in trouble I
could not care for myself. I cannot recall what he said to me, or whether or not
he said anything; but I know that he led me out or Ins oihee, across the grounds,
and into a two-story brick building standing alone. Here, I somewhat came to
myself and began to take notice. I was left in the presence of a doctor and a
white-clad nurse.
My tranquillity of mind or was it apathy was still with me, though I
was now shaking convulsively and my thick tongue could hardly articulate an
answer to the questions of the doctor. And as the nurse led me through a door
into a ward a long, wide hall bordered by sleeping rooms this mind state
was in no wise disturbed by the sight of a man on his knees before an arm chair,
praying fervently. "Some poor devil whose time has come," I thought, as I
followed the nurse, wondering, too, when I might be on my knees.
The nurse was a plump, pretty young woman, with smiling eyes, and as she
led me into a room turned to me with those eyes slightly moist and her face
saddened by sympathy genuine sympathy, as I learned later.
"Now, you poor fellow," she said, "take off your clothes and get into bed for a
good rest. I'll help you undress."
"Can I have a drink?" I answered, selfishly, not appreciating tho sympathy
to which I was not accustomed.
"No; but I'll bring you something just as good. Let me help you with that
necktie."
I had thrown off my outer clothing, and she removed my collar and tie. Then
sho pulled down my suspenders and began unbuttoning my shirt; but here I
balked. I was ever a modest man, even when dying.
"You must be undressed," she said, kindly, yet firmly, "and get into pajamas."
I sat down on the bed and looked her squarely in the face.
"Now, you'ro not going to stay here while I undress, are you?" I asked, as
kindly and firmly as I could in my agitation.
"Would you rather I'd go? Can you undress alone?"
"I ean,"I replied promptly.
"I'll send in a man," she said, and departed.
A white-clad male nurse a pleasant-faced young giant came in with a
A book, and stripped me down. Then he entered my various measurements in the
J
are .
"What are you laughing at? " 1 demanded, " What's wrong with me?" I dunno. boss, but I jess
got to laugh at you, suh. You look so funny"
book, and stowed my limp limbs into a suit of pajamas.
"Going to take my finger-tips?" I asked, as I looked at the book.
"Going to kill anybody?" he asked in answer.
"I may," 1 said, thinking of some editors I knew. "That is, if I get woll."
"Forget it. You'll never kill anything." I wondered what ho meant, as I
turned in.
My friendly nurse returned and gave mo a doso of aromatic ammonia. Then,
when the nerves within me had straightened out a little, another nurse arrived.
She was a slim girl, with a sweet face and pleasant voice, and she gave mo u
tablet and a swallow of water. "You're to take one every half hour until you've
had six," she said.
"Do 1 get anything to eat?" I asked, as the rattle of dishes camo to my cars.
"Not until supper time. You're dieting today."
"Well, can I have a smoke? I brought my pipe and tobacco."
"You must ask the doctor," she said evasively.
No doctor appeared, and I made the best of it until, when she brought tho
third tablet, she also brought a piece of plug chewing tobacco and n cuspidor.
"Don't overdo it," she said, "but I know you arc suffering for a smoke, and
this will take away the craving."
SHE was right. I had not chewed tobacco for a great many years, and a small
morsel of that plug went a long way. I talked with this girl until her duties
called her, and felt that we were getting acquainted ; but when my fourth tablet
was given me and I resumed the conversation I was surprised nt the nurse's
lack of response.
"Do you chew tobacco?" sho said, as she noticed the plug on the window sill.
"Why, you gave it to me," I answered, "to stop the craving for a smoke."
"I?" she laughed. "Why, I'm just back from lunch. I was going out when
vou were admitted, but I'm taking care of you now. You must take me for
Miss "
She pronounced a Russian or Polish name which I cannot yet pronounce,
nor spell.
I looked at her, but could not believe her. My defective mental vision would
not separate the two girls, yet, in physique, voice and temperament, they were
opposites. Not until the next day could I tell which was which, though that
afternoon they often visited my room together. I have gone into this detail to
show that I was pretty far gone.
This third nurse deserves a better description than I can give her, not because
of her beauty, though it was of an order to first impress a normal observer. It
did not impress me at all, and now, as I write, I cannot visualize her face, and
perhaps would not know her in the street without her white uniform and cap.
It was her wonderful personality that sank into my soul and made mo respect
her, admire her, and at last fear her. She had a rich, strong, musical voice