Diary Written in the Provincial Lunatic Asylum | Page 2

don't know whom. It certainly did not benefit me any;
no one invited me to go to the church where the festival was held, but
Dr. Crookshank, the Assistant Physician, looked at me very kindly and
said, "Do come, Mrs. Pengilly, you may as well come." I looked at my
dress (it is grey flannel, and I have had no other to change since I came
here), "I can't go looking like this; I must be a little better dressed to go

into a public meeting of any kind; I am not accustomed to go looking
like this, with nothing on my neck." He said, "Very well, something
shall come to you;" and Mrs. Hays, who is Assistant Nurse in our Ward,
brought me a plate of food and fruit, such as is generally had at
festivals.
I have not had my trunk yet; sure the boys did not leave me here
without my trunk. Perhaps they do not wish me to go in sight of people
from the city, for fear they will recognize me, and I should make my
complaints known to them. I have entreated them to give me my trunk
so many times in vain that I have given it up. I did ask Mrs. Mills, and
she says, "Ask Mrs. Murphy, she has charge of the trunk room." I asked
her; she says she will see, and she will bring me whatever I need that is
in it. She puts me off with a soft answer, until I begin to think there is
nothing done for any one here, only what they cannot avoid. It is a
self-running establishment, I guess, for no one seems to know how or
when to do anything I wish to have done, whatever they may do for
others.
February.--The weather is cold. I have more to occupy my time now. I
have learned how to let off the cold air from the radiators, and then we
get more heat. I do it when no one sees me. I shall do all I can to make
myself comfortable, and they all share it. When I arise in the morning,
my first thought is to look up the hall to see if there is fire in the
grate--the one little grate in that large hall, to give warmth and comfort
to us poor prisoners. If the fire is there, I feel pleased; I go up as soon
as the sweeping is done, and try to feel at home. I tell the nurse I will
tend the fire, if she will have the coal left beside the grate. Sometimes
they allow it willingly, and I enjoy it. I brush up the hearth, and make it
look cheerful and homelike as possible. I draw up the huge,
uncomfortable seats to form a circle; they stand round until I get there;
they are happy to sit with me, but they don't know enough to draw up a
seat for themselves. I have found pleasure in this; it cheers my heart.
There is no situation in life, however unpleasant it may be, but has
some bright places in it. I love to cheat Mrs. Mills; I watch my chance
when she is not near, and let off the cold air in the radiator until the
warm air comes, and then close it. I add coal to the fire, saying to

myself, "This castle belongs to the Province, and so do I. We have a
right to all the comforts of life here, and especially so when five dollars
a week is paid for our board; let us have a nice fire and bask in its
comforting rays." I love the heat; if the seats at the grate get filled up, I
come back to the radiator. Perhaps it is warm enough to afford to have
the window open a few moments, to let the impure air escape--just a
little of it; then I sit close by it, calling it my kitchen fire-place. I am
regulating the comfort of this ward in a measure, but they don't know it.
February.--My dear Lewis has been to see me today. We chat together
as usual; how can he think me crazy? Dr. Steeves tells him I am, I
suppose, and so he thinks it must be so. He is so happy to see me
looking better; he is more loving than ever; he holds my hand in his and
tells me he will take me out for a drive when the weather is fine. And I
said, "Oh Lewis, my dear boy, I am well enough to go home with you
to your hotel now." I so long for some of Mrs. Burns' good dinners; her
meals are all nice, and here we have such horrid stuff. Dark-colored,
sour bakers'