mustard and I mixed a strong dose with hot water and took it as an emetic; but it didn't work. I went upstairs to my bedroom again and put my fingers down my throat over the bath: I retched and retched but nothing came: plainly the stomach was paralysed. My sister came in crying. "I'm afraid there's no hope, Nita", I said, "the Doctor told me there was enough to kill a dozen men and I've drunk it all fasting; but you've always been good and kind to me, dear, and death is nothing."
She was sobbing terribly, so to give her something to do, I asked her to fetch me a kettle full of hot water; she vanished downstairs to get it and I stood before the glass to make up my accounts with my own soul. I knew now it was the belladonna I had taken, all of it on an empty stomach: no chance; in ten minutes I should be insensible, in a few hours dead: dead! was I afraid? I recognized with pride that I was not one whit afraid or in any doubt. Death is nothing but an eternal sleep, nothing! Yet I wished that I could have had time to prove myself and show what was in me! Was Smith right? Could I indeed have become one of the best heads in the world? Could I have been with the really great ones had I lived? No one could tell now but I made up my mind as at the time of the rattle-snake bite, to do my best to live. All this time I was drinking cold water: now my sister brought the jug of warm water, saying, "It may make you throw up, dear" and I began drinking it in long draughts. Bit by bit I felt it more difficult to think, so I kissed my sister, saying, "I had better get into bed while I can walk, as I'm rather heavy!" And then as I got into bed I said, "I wonder whether I shall be carried out next feet-foremost while they chant the Miserere! Never mind, I've had a great draught of life and I'm ready to go if go I must!"
