When I came to St. Vincent's Hospital, I had been in the order about twelve years. Twelve years of almost silence; twelve years of Latin prayers; twelve years of communion and confession; twelve years of Roman convent-slavery; twelve years of retrogression. I found myself almost lost as to how to talk intelligibly to the doctors and patients. My vocabulary was certainly very limited. I felt the grave necessity of doing something to aid me in my work. But how? That was the great question in my mind for some time. I had been taught that God would punish me if I dared to read anything except what I was allowed. And, believe me, even twelve years' experience in the convent had changed my views of Romanism but very little, if any. Finally, one day while on the daily routine, a newspaper came to my notice, and I dared to read just one line. I waited a day or two to see if God would punish me. Then, when nothing extraordinary happened, I dared to read a few lines more, and I waited a few days again to see what God would do. At last the opportunity came. In one of the rooms I found a book, by the name of "At the Mercy of Tiberius." I dared to read it, and oh, how I enjoyed that novel. It was the first book of that nature, profane reading, that I had ever read. But trouble was brewing. Some sister had seen me reading, and although she did not know exactly what it was, she knew that it was not a religious book, and she reported me to the superior. When the superior asked me about it, I told her I had been reading a book, where it could be found and offered to go and get it for her. But I had her "bluffed" and she told me to never mind. It took me about six months to read this first book, as I had to steal away and read for only a few minutes at a time. Where do you suppose I went to do this un-Roman, "un-Christian" act of endeavoring to enlighten my mind? In dark closets, bath-rooms, and in fact any place I could secret myself, so I would not be seen by some of the other sisters. For it would mean a reprimand and very often a penance, and the sister thus charged with having broken this point of the "holy" rules, is held under suspicion. For some time after this it was a problem to my mind as to how I was to obtain other reading. In time I made friends among those who came to the hospital, and very often these good people, mostly Protestant or non-Catholic, would present me with some little token, showing their appreciation of the kindness shown them, as is done to most sisters. Instead of accepting money or other gifts, which by rule had to be turned over to the superior, I would ask them to give me some book, generally leaving the nature of it to their discretion, if I thought I could trust them. Then I would warn them to be very careful when they gave it to me that no sister saw them do so, as it would mean trouble for me.