Many had been wounded by the “sword of the Spirit” and were now hoping to be cured by the processes here in vogue.
In passing on through another ward their attention was called to a woman who lay on a couch and seemed to be suffering more than she was able to bear.
Mr. World inquired concerning her, and was told that she was one Miss Busy-Body, a member in good standing of a radical church. She came to her grief in this strange manner: she had a special aptitude for sweeping before other people’s doors, and could always find dirt, even if she could not find anything better.
She had been told repeatedly to sweep before her own door, but she did not heed this wise counsel, for she often said that there was no dirt visible about her own home.
One day she went forth as usually, broom in hand, and swept the dirt from other doors than her own, much to the annoyance and provocation of her neighbors, for she always raised the dust incontinently.
Now by her continual neglect at home the filth had accumulated to such an extent that when she returned home and attempted to enter the door, her foot slipped on the greasy step, and she fell, breaking her collar bone, two of her ribs, and otherwise injuring herself.
The manager told Mr. World that many such cases came to them for help every day—some from the King’s Highway and still more from the Broad Highway.
They soon came to the bedside of one named Mr. Jealousy who occupied a private room. He was somewhat convalescent when Mr. World saw him.
Mr. Jealousy at one time was an active member of the church, but he undertook to stab Mr. Stability in the back. But Mr. Stability had a good back-bone so strong that no knife that Mr. Jealousy could handle was able to penetrate it.
One time in desperation Mr. Jealousy flung himself violently upon his imaginary foe. But his blade broke, and he himself fell upon it, cutting a terrible gash in his side. He was taken to this hospital for help.