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spect to psychiatry. Freud had lived in vain, we decided, and we weren't getting a proper education if there weren't any real psychiatrists on the medical staff of a teaching hospital, such as ours was supposed to be. At that time, around 1940, the practice of psychiatry was young, and it was understandable that we were looking forward to profound insights and subtle techniques, and that Dr. X and his tongues stuck us as grotesque as well as either cynical or ignorant whichever it might be. But in later years, as psychiatry became more socially accepted and the city with its more prosperous suburbs got to be rather well populated with analysts, and as hospitals fitted up psychiatric units with card tables and easy chairs, took orders for Tender Loving Care in the afternoons and put on the coffee pot - internists of my generation were severely disappointed. It was pleasant to go through the Unit and find everything homelike and cheerful, a cozy place to come back to after