A psychiatrist in the fortune teller's tent.

Europe and no fans had been installed. I pointed out that many of the speakers had slides to show, and that there was no screen. Obligingly, somebody went out and came back with a sheet, a hammer, and some large nails, then launched an attack on the new woodwork. This gave a white surface and effectively destroyed the panelling. Once when attending a medical meeting in Ghana I was invited to the annual dinner. I asked about after dinner speeches and was told that there would be only one (by the American ambassador). After he had sat down the toastmistress, resplendent in her red uniform, struck the table with her gavel and announced that I would be giving the next speech. At the time there were possible political implications about anything that was said, but one way out of such a dilemma is to take the name of the place or society letter by letter and speak about each in turn. Having been caught out completely I started to talk about Ghana, using this method to gain time. The letter G was easy: I could talk about the gratitude I felt for my invitation and the opportunity to see the country. When talking about this I was thinking about the next letter and realised at once that there was a problem: I was not 100% certain how to spell Ghana. I was 990/o certain it was GHANA, but there was no room for error, and just suppose it was GAHNA; if I got it wrong there would be an international incident. As I talked about gratitude I was frantically looking around for a menu card to see if the word was there, but it was not, so I had to take a chance and went on bravely withH for hospitality before continuing withA for Accra, N for new friendships, and A for the American ambassador. Fortunately all was well, but it was an awkward moment. I have known speakers to become tongue tied, but once had to treat a fairy queen who was unable to speak. She was in a pantomime at one of Edinburgh's main theatres in 1940 and had unfortunately yawned and dislocated her jaw just as the curtain went up. As the performance proceeded without a fairy queen I put her jaw back into place and she then quickly returned to the theatre. Between us, however, we must somehow have got the spells wrong because on the very day that I returned to Edinburgh from overseas service in 1946 ihe same theatre was burnt to the ground.