Ten Days in a Mad-House | Page 9

while
another officer was positive it was eastern. I felt much relieved when
the first spokesman turned to the judge and said:
"Judge, here is a peculiar case of a young woman who doesn't know
who she is or where she came from. You had better attend to it at
once."
I commenced to shake with more than the cold, and I looked around at
the strange crowd about me, composed of poorly dressed men and
women with stories printed on their faces of hard lives, abuse and
poverty. Some were consulting eagerly with friends, while others sat
still with a look of utter hopelessness. Everywhere was a sprinkling of
well-dressed, well-fed officers watching the scene passively and almost
indifferently. It was only an old story with them. One more unfortunate
added to a long list which had long since ceased to be of any interest or
concern to them.
"Come here, girl, and lift your veil," called out Judge Duffy, in tones
which surprised me by a harshness which I did not think from the
kindly face he possessed.
"Who are you speaking to?" I inquired, in my stateliest manner.
"Come here, my dear, and lift your veil. You know the Queen of
England, if she were here, would have to lift her veil," he said, very
kindly.
"That is much better," I replied. "I am not the Queen of England, but I'll
lift my veil."
As I did so the little judge looked at me, and then, in a very kind and
gentle tone, he said:
"My dear child, what is wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong except that I have lost my trunks, and this man,"

indicating Policeman Bockert, "promised to bring me where they could
be found."
"What do you know about this child?" asked the judge, sternly, of Mrs.
Stanard, who stood, pale and trembling, by my side.
"I know nothing of her except that she came to the home yesterday and
asked to remain overnight."
"The home! What do you mean by the home?" asked Judge Duffy,
quickly.
"It is a temporary home kept for working women at No. 84 Second
Avenue."
"What is your position there?"
"I am assistant matron."
"Well, tell us all you know of the case."
"When I was going into the home yesterday I noticed her coming down
the avenue. She was all alone. I had just got into the house when the
bell rang and she came in. When I talked with her she wanted to know
if she could stay all night, and I said she could. After awhile she said all
the people in the house looked crazy, and she was afraid of them. Then
she would not go to bed, but sat up all the night."
"Had she any money?"
"Yes," I replied, answering for her, "I paid her for everything, and the
eating was the worst I ever tried."
There was a general smile at this, and some murmurs of "She's not so
crazy on the food question."
"Poor child," said Judge Duffy, "she is well dressed, and a lady. Her
English is perfect, and I would stake everything on her being a good
girl. I am positive she is somebody's darling."

At this announcement everybody laughed, and I put my handkerchief
over my face and endeavored to choke the laughter that threatened to
spoil my plans, in despite of my resolutions.
"I mean she is some woman's darling," hastily amended the judge. "I
am sure some one is searching for her. Poor girl, I will be good to her,
for she looks like my sister, who is dead."
There was a hush for a moment after this announcement, and the
officers glanced at me more kindly, while I silently blessed the
kind-hearted judge, and hoped that any poor creatures who might be
afflicted as I pretended to be should have as kindly a man to deal with
as Judge Duffy.
"I wish the reporters were here," he said at last. "They would be able to
find out something about her."
I got very much frightened at this, for if there is any one who can ferret
out a mystery it is a reporter. I felt that I would rather face a mass of
expert doctors, policemen, and detectives than two bright specimens of
my craft, so I said:
"I don't see why all this is needed to help me find my trunks. These
men are impudent, and I do not want to be stared at. I will go away. I
don't want to stay here."
So saying, I pulled down my veil and secretly hoped the reporters
would be detained elsewhere until I was sent to the asylum.
"I don't know what to do with the poor child," said the worried judge.
"She must be taken care