The muscles of his body were like so many flabby strings, from being never brought into exercise, rendering him very feeble, though naturally, to judge from the size of his frame, he would be a man of great physical strength. At first, after his release, his favorite position was a kind of sitting squatting posture, with the hands resting upon the knees, the back bent, and head hanging down. If ordered to get up, he would do so promptly, but rather slowly, as he was obliged to remove his hands from his knees and place them on the back of his hips. He would get up and stand like a bent over statue. "Now then, John, walk along." At this order he would shuffle forward for a step or two, or about the length of the cage in which he had been confined, and then manifest a desire to turn round and shuffle back, like a sentry walking his beat. An attendant took his arm, however, saying: "Come, John, walk straight now; lean on me." This kindness appeared strange to him, and he made great efforts to straighten up and walk the same way as his friend, looking meanwhile surprised, perhaps to think he could get so far, and that some one could speak kindly to him. His appetite was good, and he would eat whatever was given him with evident relish. In fact he could be compared to nothing more than an automaton, a human machine, as will be seen from the following conversation which a gentlemen held with him. "John, where is your right arm?" "There," was the reply, as he turned his head and looked at his arm, partially raising the member. "Raise your left arm." Instantly he would raise it. "Hold your head back." He did it. "That will do, John, now open your mouth." It was done. [Illustration: The Policeman releasing the Victim from his cage. Der Polizist befreit das unglückliche Opfer aus seinem Käfig.] "Shut it." "John, where are you living now?" Of this question he took no notice. "Do you like to live here?" "Yes." "Where did you live before you came here?" No answer, but a look of half inquiry flitted over John's face. "Did you not live at Fourth and Lombard Streets?" "Oh, yes." "For how long a time?" No reply, but the same thoughtful look as before. A variety of other questions was put to the imbecile, to all of which he invariably gave quick and correct replies, provided the reply could be made in monosyllables. But if it required an answer of several words he would remain silent, or apparently trying to think what he should say.