The dominant note in the young girl's character is her cowardice; she is afraid of everything. Every evening before the return of her father she repeatedly looks into the corridor to see that no one is there; as soon as her parent arrives, she locks the door behind him hurriedly to prevent any one else appearing; every now and then in her fear of a footstep she listens at the door, and it is this gesture, this attitude of listening, that has degenerated into a tic which no amount of remonstrance or derision seems to affect. Phobias such as these are associated with an evident tendency to melancholia and hypochondriasis. The majority of our patients are ridiculously preoccupied with the state of their health; the extraordinarily introspective nature of their minds is manifest in their meticulous observation, their laborious analysis of their most trifling sensations, the zeal with which they devise the most complex explanation for their simplest symptom, usually for the sake of making the prognosis seem more grave. At the other pole from these silly fears and dislikes we meet with various absurd predilections and meaningless attractions: one can sit only on a certain seat, sleep only in a certain bed; another cannot enter a room except by a particular door; a third will make a long detour to pass along a certain street; in this street he will always walk on the same side, and lengthen or shorten his stride to step always on the same flagstones. We are acquainted with the history of a wretched commissionaire who could not go an errand in Paris without starting from the Place Clichy, and the interminable twists and turns on his route can be imagined when his duty took him from Montrouge to the Bastille. Akin to the conditions we have been enumerating is an exaggerated love of order, somewhat unexpected in those whose mental disarray is often extreme. Some cannot sleep without previously arranging their clothes in an unvarying plan. One of Guinon's patients contrived to have one half of the objects in front of him to his right, and the other half to his left. In the case of a little nine-year-old hydrocephalic child with tics and echolalia, Noir[26] makes the following remarks: The fundamental element in the child's character is an overweening vanity coupled with an excessive orderliness. Her desire of personal ornament is such that at one time she is lost in admiration of a new dress, at another, she is decking herself out with old pieces of tarletan. When going to bed she folds her clothes in the same exact order each evening. Her self-conceit makes her furiously jealous of the attention paid to any other patient in her presence. A similar mental state has been observed by Noir in other hydrocephalics.