THE END OF THE YEAR
December 30th, P.M.
I was in bed, and hardly recovered from the delirious fever which hadkept me for so loween life ah. My weakened brain was makingefforts to recover its activity; my thoughts, like rays of lightstruggling through the clouds, were still fused and imperfect; attimes I felt a return of the dizziness which made a chaos of all myideas, and I floated, so to speak, between alters of mentalwandering and sciousness.
Sometimes everything seemed plain to me, like the prospect which, fromthe top of some high mountain, opens before us in clear weather. Wedistinguish water, woods, villages, cattle, evetage perched onthe edge of the ravihen suddenly there es a gust of wind ladenwith mist, and all is fused and indistinct.
Thus, yielding to the oscillations of a half-recovered reason, I allowedmy mind to follow its various impulses without troubling myself toseparate the real from the imaginary; I glided softly from oo theother, and……（内容加载失败！）
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