l. But not for long. He soon returned. Observing that I
had scarcely touched my feast, he said, "If you don't eat that dinner
in a hurry, I'll take it from you."

"I don't see what difference it makes to you whether I eat it in a
hurry or take my time about it," I said. "It's the best I've had in
many a day, and I have a right to get as much pleasure out of it as I
can."

"We'll see about that," he replied, and, snatching it away, he stalked
out of the room, leaving me to satisfy my hunger on the memory of
vanished luxuries. Thus did a feast become a fast.

Under this treatment I soon learned to be more noisy than my neighbors.
I was never without a certain humor in contemplating not only my
surroundings, but myself; and the demonstrations in which I began to
indulge were partly in fun and partly by way of protest. In these
outbursts I was assisted, and at times inspired, by a young man in the
room next mine. He was about my own age and was enjoying the same phase
of exuberance as myself. We talked and sang at all hours of the night.
At the time we believed that the other patients enjoyed the spice which
we added to the restricted variety of their lives, but later I learned
that a majority of them looked upon us as the worst of nuisances.

We gave the doctors and attendants no rest--at least not intentionally.
Whenever the assistant physician appeared, we upbraided him for the
neglect which was then our portion. At one time or another we were
banished to the Bull Pen for these indiscretions. And had there been a
viler place of confinement still, our performances in the Bull Pen
undoubtedly would have brought us to it. At last the doctor hit upon
the expedient of transferring me to a room more remote from my
inspiring, and, I may say, conspiring, companion. Talking to each other
ceased to be the easy pastime it had been; so we gradually lapsed into
a comparative silence which must have proved a boon to our ward-mates.
The megaphonic Bull Pen, however, continued with irregularity, but
annoying certainty to furnish its quota of noise.

On several occasions I concocted plans to escape, and not only that,
but also to liberate others. That I did not make the attempt was the
fault--or merit, perhaps--of a certain night watch, whose timidity,
rather than sagacity, impelled him to refuse to unlock my door early
one morning, although I gave him a plausible reason for the request.
This night watch, I learned later, admitted t