of the mines.

"I can never return to the scene of the accident," I thought.

I groaned and tossed, but it was the torture of my conscience, and not
of my aching limbs. The doctor and others came in.

"How long shall I have to lie here?" I asked.

"Not many days; no bones are broken. Your head is injured and you are
badly bruised, that's all. You must keep quiet--you must not excite
yourself."

Excite myself! As if I could, for one moment, forget the respectable
old capitalist whom I had first poisoned and then blown into ten
thousand pieces through my folly. I had brain fever. It set in that
night. For two weeks I raved deliriously; for two weeks I was doing
the things I ought not to have done--in imagination. I took a young
lady skating, and slipped down with her on the ice, and broke her
Grecian nose. I went to a grand reception, and tore the point lace
flounce off of Mrs. Grant's train, put my handkerchief in my saucer,
and my coffee-cup in my pocket. I was left to entertain a handsome
young lady, and all I could say was to cough and "Hem! hem!" until at
last she asked me if I had any particular article I would like hemmed.

I killed a baby by sitting down on it in a fit of embarrassment, when
asked by a neighbor to take a seat. I waltzed and waltzed and waltzed
with Blue-Eyes, and every time I turned I stepped on her toes with my
heavy boots, until they must have been jelly in her little satin
slippers, and finally we fell down-stairs, and I went out of that
fevered dream only to find myself again giving blazing kerosene to an
estimable old gentleman, who swallowed it unsuspiciously, and then sat
down on a powder keg, and we all blew up--up--up--and came
down--down--bump! I never want to have brain fever again--at least,
not until I have conquered myself.

When I was once more rational, I resolved that a miner's life was too
rough for me; and, as soon as I could be bolstered up in a corner of
the coach, I set out to reach the railroad, where I was to take a
palace-car for home. I gained strength rapidly during the change and
excitement of the journey; so that, the day before we were to reach
Chicago, I no longer remained prone in my berth, but, "clothed and in
my right mind," took my seat with the other passengers, looked about
and tried to forget the past and to enjoy myself. At first, I had a
seat to myself; but, at one of the stations, about two in the
afternoon, a lady, dressed in deep black, and wearin