The
floor beneath us rose, and we were driven with it through
the ceiling and the rooms above,--through an opening in
the roof into the still night. Around us in the air were
flying all the other contents and occupants of the Star
and Eagle. How bitterly was I reminded of Dick's flight
from the railroad track of the Ithaca and Owego Railroad!
But I could not hope such an escape as his. Still my
flight was in a parabola; and, in a period not longer
than it has taken to describe it, I was thrown senseless,
at last, into a deep snow-bank near the United
States Arsenal.
Tender hands lifted me and assuaged me. Tender teams
carried me to the City Hospital. Tender eyes brooded
over me. Tender science cared for me. It proved
necessary, before I recovered, to amputate my two legs at
the hips. My right arm was wholly removed, by a delicate
and curious operation, from the socket. We saved the
stump of my left arm, which was amputated just below the
shoulder. I am still in the hospital to recruit my
strength. The doctor does not like to have me occupy my
mind at all; but he says there is no harm in my compiling
my memoirs, or writing magazine stories. My faithful
nurse has laid me on my breast on a pillow, has put a
camel's-hair pencil in my mouth, and, feeling almost
personally acquainted with John Carter, the artist, I
have written out for you, in his method, the story of my
last Christmas.
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