fellow suffering from shell-shock, whom we were keeping in bed for a rest.

We found him standing in the middle of the floor, shaking from head to foot. At sight of us he rushed across the room and flung himself into Dr. Taverner’s arms. It was the pathetic action of a frightened child, but carried out by the tall figure in striped pyjamas, it was extraordinarily distressing to witness.

Dr. Taverner soothed him as gently as a mother, and got him back to bed, sitting by him until he quieted down.

“I do not think we will keep him in bed any longer,” said my colleague after we had left the room. “The inactivity is making him brood, and he is living over again the scenes of the trenches.”

Accordingly, Howson appeared among the patients next day for the first time since his arrival, and seemed to benefit by the change.

The benefit was not of long duration, however; when once the novelty had worn off, he commenced his brooding again, going over mentally the horrors he had lived through, and ending each recall with an attack of panic terror, rushing to the nearest human being for protection.

I found somewhat distressing to our other patients to have six feet of burly humanity hurled unexpectedly into their arms, so we segregated Howson in the portion of the garden we kept for cases that we could not mix with the rest. The only other occupant of this part of the garden was Mona Cailey, but we hardly counted her, for she sat motionless in the deck chair we placed for her, never stirring until she was fetched in to meals.

As I was walking one evening with Dr. Taverner in that part of the grounds, we heard the now familiar sound of poor Howson’s nightmare shriek. He shot out of the summer-house and stood irresolutely on the lawn. The only people in sight were ourselves and Mona Cailey, passive in her chair; he was about halfway between the two. When a man is broken, he reverts either to the savage or to the child, according to his temperament; and for the time being Howson was about four years old. Dr. Taverner hurried towards him over the intervening grass; but when a man reverts to the child, it is to the mother he turns, and, ignoring the approaching man, Howson ran across the lawn to Mona Cailey and buried his face in her lap.