of these spasms. Nothing had the power of exciting Mark Baker like one of Mary's "fits," as they were called. His neighbours in Tilton remember him as he went to fetch Dr. Ladd,[1] how he lashed his horses down the hill, standing upright in his wagon and shouting in his tremendous voice, "Mary is dying!"
Outside the family, Mary's spells did not inspire the same anxiety. The unsympathetic called them "tantrums," after a better acquaintance with her, and declared that she used her nerves to get her own way. In later years Mark Baker came to share this neighbourhood opinion, and on one occasion, after Mary had grown to womanhood, he tested her power of self-control by allowing her to remain on the floor, where she had thrown herself when her will was crossed, and leaving her to herself. An hour later when he opened the door, the room was deserted. Mary had gone upstairs to her room, and nothing was heard from her until she appeared at supper, fully recovered. After that Mary's nerves lost their power over her father to a great extent, and when hard put to it, he sometimes complained to his friends. A neighbour, passing the house one morning, stopped at Mark's gate and inquired why Mary, who was at that moment rushing wildly up and down the second-story piazza, was so excited; to which Mark replied bitterly: "The Bible says Mary Magdalen had seven devils, but our Mary has got ten!"
Unquestionably, Mary's attacks represented, to a great degree, a genuine affliction. Although Dr. Ladd sometimes impatiently diagnosed them as "hysteria mingled with bad temper,"
- ↑ Dr. Nathaniel G. Ladd, the village physician.
