That first day and night wore a sombre aspect, and teemed with gloomy forebodings.
In the morning I fell into a kind of doze, and dreamed that I was walking in a beautiful meadow, which was traversed by a wide and deep ditch.

Wishing to pass to the other side I attempted to leap the ditch, but jumped short, and buried myself in mud and mire to the waist! I awoke with a start, which I accompanied with a cry of distress.

I had moved the broken limb, and furnished more work for the surgeon and suffering for myself.
My gloomy reflections and disquietude of mind did not last long.

In the morning my attention was attracted by the novelties of my situation, and I found much to excite my curiosity and interest my feelings.

My "fit of the blues" had passed off to return no more.