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HER NERVOUS PROSTRATION
Monday.—I slept all day, waking only for meals.
Tuesday.—The handcuffs slipped off my wrists and the balls and chains off my ankles.
Wednesday.—My headache, sideache, backache, and shoulderache disappeared. Breakfasted with the doctor on coffee, hot biscuits, beefsteak, and griddle cakes with sausage.
Thursday.—Richard Morton came.
Friday.—Dismissed as completely cured.
“The dimensions of this mercy are above my thoughts,” as Cromwell wrote after the Worcester fight.
THE END
