At the fourth desk I was called at the end of two hours, and they undertook a thorough examination of my eyes, ears, nose, and possibly my throat--I don’t remember. I do remember wondering again what all this wearisome routine had to do with my kidney; also that I was absolutely empty and exhausted. I recollect, too, that it was 2:30 P. M. and I hadn’t had a bite to eat since the morning before; so I pocketed the other envelopes till the following day and went to my hotel next door, where I found the dining room “closed from 2:30 until six o’clock.” Next morning when I went to dispose of my two remaining envelopes I discovered that the first one called for what is known as the blood urea test--where they jab a needle-pointed syringe into a vein in the arm and draw off quantities of blood. Then, as if they suspect you of holding back on them, they send you into another room where they puncture the lobe of the ear, drain off more blood--if you have any left--and store it away in glass tubes labeled with your name and number. The young lady at the desk gave me a numbered card--number 6, I recall, for I was early. “Take a chair,” she said as she wrote number 7 on a slip for the man behind me. I sat there an hour or so, studying the faces of the crowd and listening to the monotonous “Take a chair,” when a nurse opened a nearby door and called out numbers one to six. The first six of us filed into a small anteroom where we were requested to remove our coats and roll up the left sleeve. Through the door leading into an adjoining room we could see a number of nurses in uniform, and on a table near the door were several strange looking instruments, glass containers, etc. Extending past the left side of the entrance we could see about eighteen inches of what seemed to be an operating table, and altogether the interior did not look inviting. Number one, a tall hardy Scotchman, was soon called and as he stretched himself on the table we could see his feet projecting over the end at the doorway. For a moment all eyes and ears were strained, then suddenly a heavy groan issued from within, accompanied by a violent swinging and jerking of the patient’s feet. Presently the legs dropped, and after a few convulsive twitches the feet hung limp over the table end. From what we could see, it looked as if the nurses had won the first fall, and had the victim’s shoulders pinned to the mat. Among the five waiting occupants in the anteroom was a rather pale looking chap who stood for a moment with wide-staring eyes, then suddenly gathering up his hat and coat he exclaimed, “Here’s where I quit!” At which he jerked open the door and disappeared.