“FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.

“Arrived after furlough.  Drilled A.M. and P.M.  Weather clear.”

* * * * *

“SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.

“On camp guard.  Letters from home.  Showers.  Marched at night.”

“SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.

“Marched all day.  Bivouacked in woods at night.”

* * * * *

“MONDAY, May 26, 1862.

“Marched but a few miles.  Weather bad.  Day very hot.  Heavy rain at night.”

* * * * *

“TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.

“Rain.  Heard a battle ahead.  Marched past Branch’s brigade, that had been fighting.”

* * * * *

Each page in the book is divided into three sections.

After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said to the surgeon, “Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe that I ever wrote this.  It looks like my writing, but I am certain that I could not have written B. Jones as my name.”

The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil.  “Now,” said he, “take this paper and write at my dictation.”

He then read slowly the note under May 27th:  “Rain.  Heard a battle ahead.  Marched past Branch’s brigade, that had been fighting.”

“Now let us compare them,” said he.

The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the paper.

“Well,” said Dr. Frost, “do you still think your name is Jones Berwick?”

“I know it,” I said; “that is one of the things that I do know.”

“And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book, what would you have said?”

“That the book was never mine, of course.”

“Yet that would have been no proof at all,” said the doctor.  “Many cases have been known of patients whose handwriting had changed completely.  The truth is, that I did not expect to see you write as you did just now.”

“My name is Jones Berwick,” was my reply.

“Strange!” said he; “I would bet a golden guinea that your name is Berwick Jones.  Some people cannot remember their names at all—­any part of their names.  Others see blue for red.  Others do this and do that; there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the mind.  I’d rather risk that signature which you made before you were hurt.”

“My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor.  This signature cannot be trusted.  It is full of suspicion.  Don’t you see that all the lower part of the leaf has been torn off?  What was it torn off for?  Why, of course, to destroy the name of the regiment to which the owner belonged!  B. Jones is common enough; Jones Berwick is not so common.  I found it, or else it got into my pocket by mistake.  No wonder that a man named Jones is not called for.”

“But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is identical?  Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we cannot account for the rest unless you wrote it.  It is very romantic, and all that, to say that somebody imitated your handwriting in the body of the book, but it is very far-fetched.  Find some other theory.”