But his favorite pastime was walking. He liked to stroll around the nation's capital, taking in the sights, and just plain enjoying himself. He always walked the same route every night; if he didn't, he was likely to get lost. Once, several years earlier, he had taken a wrong turn and ended up in unfamiliar territory. He had asked a passer-by how to reach his address, but had forgotten the instructions, and so had ended up hopelessly lost. He had finally been forced to take a taxi home, a luxury he could ill afford. After that, he stuck to his routine. It was on one of these evening strolls that a very peculiar thing happened to Philip Merriwether. He was walking slowly along the sidewalk, carefully minding his own business, when, without warning, there was a strange, buzzy feeling in his head. It grew stronger; it felt like someone was playing a fire-hose on his brain. His skull felt as though it were suddenly being filled with a vast, overpowering torrent of _words_--hundreds of words; thousands of words; millions upon millions of words! Under the pressure of this verbal onslaught, Philip Merriwether's mind reeled. He pressed his palms to his temples and fainted dead away. * * * * * When he came to, there were several passers-by crowded around him. One of them was kneeling by his side, taking his pulse. "Ha--Wha--what happened?" he asked, unoriginally enough. "You fainted," said the man who was taking his pulse. "Just lie still; it's all right. I'm a physician." "Fainting," said Phil, "is normally a mild form of shock in which the blood vessels of the abdomen become distended and engorged with blood, thus reducing the blood pressure and temporarily depriving the brain of its normal oxygen supply, which causes momentary loss of consciousness." The doctor blinked. "What? Oh. Yes. That's quite correct, sir. Do you have these attacks often." Phil's mouth had remained open after his last word. After a minute, he gulped. "Did I say that?" "What?" the doctor asked for a second time. "Do you feel all right?" Phil Merriwether stood up hastily. "My head feels a little funny, but I think I'm all right." "If you want to go to a hospital--" "No, no, thank you. I'm all right, really I am. I feel completely resuscitated, thanks to your therapeutic ministrations." "Think nothing of it, sir. My duty, you know," said the physician. "The Oath of Hippocrates," said Phil, "makes it obligatory for the physician to alleviate suffering, illness, and infirmity, and induce salubrity in his fellow man in the most efficacious manner at his command." "Uh, yes, of course," said the doctor, looking baffled. "Well, good luck." With that, he picked up his black bag and walked rapidly off in the opposite direction. The other passers-by had already gone about their business.