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Page 20
* * * * *
I am resolved. Henceforth this hallucination ceases. From now on I shall
remain in the chair. I shall never leave it. I shall remain in it night
and day and always.
* * * * *
I have succeeded. For two weeks I have not seen him. Nor shall I ever
see him again. I have at last attained the equanimity of mind necessary
for philosophic thought. I wrote a complete chapter to-day.
* * * * *
It is very wearisome, sitting in a chair. The weeks pass, the months
come and go, the seasons change, the servants replace each other, while
I remain. I only remain. It is a strange life I lead, but at least I am
at peace.
* * * * *
He comes no more. There is no eternity of forms. I have proved it. For
nearly two years now, I have remained in this chair, and I have not seen
him once. True, I was severely tried for a time. But it is clear that
what I thought I saw was merely hallucination. He never was. Yet I do
not leave the chair. I am afraid to leave the chair.
TOLD IN THE DROOLING WARD
Me? I'm not a drooler. I'm the assistant, I don't know what Miss Jones
or Miss Kelsey could do without me. There are fifty-five low-grade
droolers in this ward, and how could they ever all be fed if I wasn't
around? I like to feed droolers. They don't make trouble. They can't.
Something's wrong with most of their legs and arms, and they can't talk.
They're very low-grade. I can walk, and talk, and do things. You must be
careful with the droolers and not feed them too fast. Then they choke.
Miss Jones says I'm an expert. When a new nurse comes I show her how to
do it. It's funny watching a new nurse try to feed them. She goes at it
so slow and careful that supper time would be around before she finished
shoving down their breakfast. Then I show her, because I'm an expert.
Dr. Dalrymple says I am, and he ought to know. A drooler can eat twice
as fast if you know how to make him.
My name's Tom. I'm twenty-eight years old. Everybody knows me in the
institution. This is an institution, you know. It belongs to the State
of California and is run by politics. I know. I've been here a long
time. Everybody trusts me. I run errands all over the place, when I'm
not busy with the droolers. I like droolers. It makes me think how lucky
I am that I ain't a drooler.
I like it here in the Home. I don't like the outside. I know. I've been
around a bit, and run away, and adopted. Me for the Home, and for the
drooling ward best of all. I don't look like a drooler, do I? You can
tell the difference soon as you look at me. I'm an assistant, expert
assistant. That's going some for a feeb. Feeb? Oh, that's feeble-minded.
I thought you knew. We're all feebs in here.
But I'm a high-grade feeb. Dr. Dalrymple says I'm too smart to be in the
Home, but I never let on. It's a pretty good place. And I don't throw
fits like lots of the feebs. You see that house up there through the
trees. The high-grade epilecs all live in it by themselves. They're
stuck up because they ain't just ordinary feebs. They call it the club
house, and they say they're just as good as anybody outside, only
they're sick. I don't like them much. They laugh at me, when they ain't
busy throwing fits. But I don't care. I never have to be scared about
falling down and busting my head. Sometimes they run around in circles
trying to find a place to sit down quick, only they don't. Low-grade
epilecs are disgusting, and high-grade epilecs put on airs. I'm glad I
ain't an epilec. There ain't anything to them. They just talk big,
that's all.
Miss Kelsey says I talk too much. But I talk sense, and that's more than
the other feebs do. Dr. Dalrymple says I have the gift of language. I
know it. You ought to hear me talk when I'm by myself, or when I've got
a drooler to listen. Sometimes I think I'd like to be a politician, only
it's too much trouble. They're all great talkers; that's how they hold
their jobs.
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