He raved, shrieked,
struck about him, and tore off all the raiment that was put upon him.
One of his sisters, named Lucy, whom he had most loved when well, had
now power to soothe him. He would listen to her voice, and give way to
a milder mood when she talked or sang. But this favorite sister
married, went to her new home, and the maniac became wilder, more
violent than ever.
After two or three years, she returned, bringing with her on infant.
She went into the room where the naked, blaspheming, raging object was
confined. He knew her instantly, and felt joy at seeing her.
"But, Lucy," said he, suddenly, "is that your baby you have in your
arms? Give it to me, I want to hold it!"
A pang of dread and suspicion shot through the young mother's
heart,--she turned pale and faint. Her brother was not at that moment
so mad that he could not understand her fears.
"Lucy," said he, "do you suppose I would hurt _your_ child?"
His sister had strength of mind and of heart; she could not resist the
appeal, and hastily placed the child in his arms. Poor fellow! he held
it awhile, stroked its little face, and melted into tears, the first
he had shed since his insanity.
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