manner, “Give me a good character to the new people who come when you go, or they won’t bring me anything. Don’t tell them that I ask for things belonging to the others; I say, give me a good character to them!” Poor old Bridget had led such a hard life that I suppose it had become natural to her to think of herself before anyone. She was very peculiar at times, and her mind used to wander. She would then talk in a strange manner about her young days. From what she used to say on those occasions, I learned that she had been a corset maker, and used to sit “stitching away night and day, stitching away.” Sometimes she would repeat these words over and over again, and appear entirely oblivious of our presence; then, after talking disjointedly for a few minutes, she would gaze on some flowers I had brought, and say suddenly: “Faded old roses, why don’t you bring me fresh flowers?” I would endeavour to explain that the long drive in the heat from my house down to the asylum had made them droop, and tell her, that if she put them in water they would revive. But while I was speaking she would be “havering” about something else, and not hearing a word of what I was saying. Sometimes, if she thought we stayed longer with Daisy or any of the others than with her, she would get angry and say some very uncomplimentary things about us all; but we used to take it in good part, for poor old Bridget was not quite right in her head. At times she used to almost frighten me with the weird stories of ghosts and devils whom she said she saw walking about the place. She would call me to her and say, “This place is full of devils; there are devils everywhere, and dead bones all under this room. You don’t know what goes on here at night, and they are all devils; I scream and scream and no one comes, because the place is all full of devils.” We used to tell her that it was all imagination; but she was never tired of talking to us about their depredations. She was a confirmed miser, and used to put away all the different articles of clothing I would bring her from time to time, instead of wearing them. She said she wanted them “to keep.” It amused her to have a gay apron or dressing-gown and fold it and put it in a box, in order that she might take it out and admire it, when she wanted something pretty to look at.