Instead of being ashamed of his ailments he tries to describe as many as
he can think of. His specific complaint may be a touch of sciatica, but
he takes pleasure in recalling a bad habit of breathing through the
mouth in moments of excitement, and a tricky memory which often leads
him to carry about his wife's letters an entire week before mailing
them. The need for a certain amount of self-castigation is implanted in
all of us, and it is satisfied in the form of confession. Many people do
it as part of their religious beliefs. Others belabour themselves in the
physician's office. Men who in the bosom of the family will deny that
they read too late at night and smoke too many cigars will call such
transgressions to the doctor's attention if he should happen to overlook
them. I know of one man suffering from neuralgia of the arm who insisted
on telling his doctor that it made him ill to read the advertisements in
the subway cars. But the doctor who wears no beard does not invite such
confidences.
IV
INTERROGATION
One day a census enumerator in the employ of the United States
government knocked at my door and left a printed list of questions for
me to answer.
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