off no drafts, and I felt like a
corpse ready for the embalmer, and likely appeared one. Stethoscope, a
scale for my weight, a tape for my arm and the blood pressure, lights
that blinked in my eyes and bells that rang in my ear ... when they
were finished with me I felt like a used Tinker-Toy.

"Do I pass? Will I live?"

Kellner didn't like juvenile humor. He turned me over to another
group who, so help me, brought out a box of children's blocks to put
together, timing me with a stopwatch. They used the same stopwatch to
time how long it took me to come up with answers to some of the
silliest questions I ever heard outside of a nursery. Now I know why
they label well the patients in an insane asylum. The man with the
watch galloped off and came back with Kellner and they all stood
around muttering. The sheet and I were sticking to the chair.

"Kellner. Doctor Kellner!" They didn't like me to break up the
kaffeeklatch. "Can I go now? Are you all through?"

"All through?" The airedale changed to a cackling Rhode Island Red.
"Joseph, you are just beginning."

"My name isn't Joseph, Dr. Kellner. It's Miller. Peter Ambrose
Miller."

"Excuse me, Peter," and he cackled again. "Nevertheless, you're going
to be here quite awhile."

Peter, hey? No more, Mr. Miller. Pete to my wife, Peter to my mother,
and Peter to every school teacher I ever had.

* * * * *

They conferred awhile longer and the party broke up. Kellner and a
gawkish Great Dane led me sheet and all to what I thought would be the
operating room. It looked like one. I found a chair all by myself this
time, and watched them hook up an electric fan. They were hipped on
fans, I thought.

Kellner trotted over. "Stop that fan." Not, please stop that fan.
Just, stop that fan.

I shivered ostentatiously. "I'm cold."

Kellner was annoyed. "Perfectly comfortable in here." Sure, you old
goat, you got your pants on. "Come, let's not delay. Stop the fan."

I told him I was still cold, and I looked at the fan. It threw sparks,
and the long cord smoked. I was going to fix those boys.

The other man yanked the cord from the wall, and from the way he
sucked his fingers, it must have been hot. Kellner was pleased at
that. He ignored the man's sore fingers and snarled at him until he
brought out some dry cells and hooked them in series to a large bell,
almost a gong. He pressed the button and it clanged.

"All right," and Kellner mot