sincerely—­thanked him for his many courtesies.  I also expressed entire satisfaction with the past conduct of the attendants.  In fact, on part of the institution I put the stamp of my approval.  “But,” I said, “I know there are wards in this hospital where helpless patients are brutally treated; and I intend to put a stop to these abuses at once.  Not until the Governor of the State, the judge who committed me, and my conservator come to this door will I open it.  When they arrive, we’ll see whether or not patients are to be robbed of their rights and abused.”

My speech was made through a screen transom over the door.  For a few minutes the doctor continued his persuasive methods, but that he should even imagine that I would basely recede from my high and mighty position only irritated me the more.

“You can stand outside that door all day if you choose,” I said.  “I won’t open it until the three men I have named appear.  I have prepared for a siege; and I have enough food in this room to keep me going for a day anyway.”

Realizing at last that no argument would move me, he set about forcing an entrance.  First he tried to remove the transom by striking it with a stout stick.  I gave blow for blow and the transom remained in place.  A carpenter was then sent for, but before he could go about his work one of the attendants managed to open the door enough to thrust in his arm and shove aside my barricade.  I did not realize what was being done until it was too late to interfere.  The door once open, in rushed the doctor and four attendants.  Without ceremony I was thrown upon the bed, with two or three of the attacking force on top of me.  Again I was choked, this time by the doctor.  The operation was a matter of only a moment.  But before it was over I had the good fortune to deal the doctor a stinging blow on the jaw, for which (as he was about my own age and the odds were five to one) I have never felt called upon to apologize.

Once I was subdued, each of the four attendants attached himself to a leg or an arm and, under the direction and leadership of the doctor, I was carried bodily through two corridors, down two flights of stairs, and to the violent ward.  My dramatic exit startled my fellow-patients, for so much action in so short a time is seldom seen in a quiet ward.  And few patients placed in the violent ward are introduced with so impressive an array of camp-followers as I had that day.

All this to me was a huge joke, with a good purpose behind it.  Though excited I was good-natured and, on the way to my new quarters, I said to the doctor:  “Whether you believe it or not, it’s a fact that I’m going to reform these institutions before I’m done.  I raised this rumpus to make you transfer me to the violent ward.  What I want you to do now is to show me the worst you’ve got.”

“You needn’t worry,” the doctor said.  “You’ll get it.”

He spoke the truth.