A Summer's Adventures (continued) [pp. 139-143]

A SUMMER'S ADVENTURES.
in return for which we were to make her bed,
take care of her room, and aid her in such
ways as she needed.
And when we sat down to our little round
table and ate our supper of crackers and milk
out of bowls of sundry patterns, relics of many
years of housekeeping, we felt very well satis fied with our prospects and disposed to be
quite merry over our late perplexities.
It was arranged that one of us should re main at home each day as housekeeper while
the other three were to visit the hospital, and
it fell to Nell's lot to be the first one to stay.
The rest of us took our way to the hospital
early in the morning, armed with a letter of
introduction which the minister furnished us
out of the pure goodness of his heart, for we
could produce no testimonials, except that
Esther had a photograph album, presented by
her pupils, and containing the pictures and
autographs of many of our city teachers and
school officials. We had often visited the hos pital down the river, so that the ceremonies of
gaining an entrance were familiar to us, and
we walked very composedly to head-quarters,
escorted by the sergeant and his guard. Our
letter was inspected, our request listened to,
and a pass made out for us with due formali ties. A guard was sent to conduct Lus to the
surgeon in charge, under whose directions we
were to act. He received us with much kind ness, telling us, however, that as a general
thing he did not set a very high estimate upon
the services of young ladies among the sol diers, not that they lacked inclination, but
judgment.
"I have never," said he, "been so fortunate
as to find a female nurse worth half so much
as that man over yonder," pointing to a roughlooking soldier who was administering a bowl
of gruel to a poor fellow whose right sleeve
hung empty from his shoulder. Then, fearing
vwhat he had said might not sound kind to us,
he added, "I have hopes of you, though; your
dress, for one thing, looks as if you meant
work-neat and pretty without any furbelows."
"What- shall we do?" asked Esther, seeing
he was turning away from us.
"Use a woman's wit and see what needs
doing," was the answer. "If you want any
directions go to the nurses or surgeons of the
wards. These men want to be talked to, and
read to, and cheered up. Do n't go near one
of them with a dismal face."
We stood together at the entrance of one
of the wards and looked down the long building half in fear. On each side a row of thirty
na-row beds and on every bed a form that was
either wasted by sickness or cruelly maimed
by war, and of them all there was probably
not one who had not been full of hope, and
vigor, and manly strength a year before.
There was not one who had not somewhere
dear ones who would give the world for the
privilege of watching beside them and minis tering to their needs. It was not a cheerful
prospect, and we felt disposed to weep rather
than smile. It was timid little Mattie who
first made a move by stepping quietly to a
man who was trying to read with a bandage
covering one of his eyes.
"Let me read to you," she said with
a pleasant smile, taking the book from his
hand.
And so Esther and I followed her example
and walked on. Esther went directly through
into another ward, and I paused at a bed
where a young boy was lying in the most
violent stages of fever. A man stood at his
side fanning him constantly and occasionally
wetting the cloth upon his head; but the boy's
eyes were rolling wildly in the delirium of
fever, and he seemed unconscious of every
thing but suffering. I took my place upon
the other side and commenced bathing his face
and temples and tallking to him in a low tone.
For a long time he did not seem to notice me,
then gradually the restless motion of his head
ceased and his eyes grew quieter, sometimes
turning to my face with a puzzled look that
was half rational. For a whole hour I sat
there, till one of the surgeons came with a
portion which he administered without speak ing, only smiling and nodding to me as he
went away. Soon the boy's eyes closed, and
as he gradually fell asleep a smile crept over
his face. It seemed a life-giving sleep, and
after watching him for a long time wvithlout
daring to stop the motion of my hand over his
forehead, I said to his soldier nurse, "He will
feel better when he wakes; he will get well,
will lie not?"
He shook his head, saying, "He will die; he
has fretted hii life out. Perhaps you do n't
know, but he' has a leg off above the knee,
and this. fever spoils the surgeon's work, it
won't heal. He has a mother somewhere, and
he has fretted terribly about being a burden
to her, and because he could n't fight again;
but the poor boy'11 never trouble any body."
"Will he die in this sleep?" I asked with a
sickening heart, sitting for the first time in my
life so near to coming death.
"{No, he will wake," was the answer, "but
he will go before morning."
I turned sadly from the sleeper to ask at
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