“I’ve forgotten! I’ve forgotten!”
The words were ejaculated again and again by a gentleman to his doctor.
He had been calling on a merchant, and suddenly feeling ill, dropped into a chair near by—a dying man.
The office boy was sent for the medical man, and when he arrived the patient recovered a little, and repeated the words again and again,
“I’ve forgotten! I’ve forgotten!”
“What is it you have forgotten? Is it some matter connected with your business? Do you want to see your lawyer?” Questions such as these were asked, but in vain. All he seemed to be able to say was,
“I’ve forgotten! I’ve forgotten!”
The lawyer was sent for in case it was something to do with his will that the dying man was anxious about.
Having come he begged his client to inform him what it was that troubled him so much. At last the reply came in a whisper:
“I’ve forgotten about my soul.”
ML 01/03/1943