ry familiar did I become
before long with the sick wharf of Balaclava. My acquaintance with it
began very shortly after I had reached Balaclava. The very first day
that I approached the wharf, a party of sick and wounded had just
arrived. Here was work for me, I felt sure. With so many patients, the
doctors must be glad of all the hands they could get. Indeed, so
strong was the old impulse within me, that I waited for no permission,
but seeing a poor artilleryman stretched upon a pallet, groaning
heavily, I ran up to him at once, and eased the stiff dressings.
Lightly my practised fingers ran over the familiar work, and well was
I rewarded when the poor fellow's groans subsided into a restless
uneasy mutter. God help him! He had been hit in the forehead, and I
think his sight was gone. I stooped down, and raised some tea to his
baked lips (here and there upon the wharf were rows of little
pannikins containing this beverage). Then his hand touched mine, and
rested there, and I heard him mutter indistinctly, as though the
discovery had arrested his wandering senses--

"Ha! this is surely a woman's hand."

I couldn't say much, but I tried to whisper something about hope and
trust in God; but all the while I think his thoughts were running on
this strange discovery. Perhaps I had brought to his poor mind
memories of his home, and the loving ones there, who would ask no
greater favour than the privilege of helping him thus; for he
continued to hold my hand in his feeble grasp, and whisper "God bless
you, _woman_--whoever you are, God bless you!"--over and over again.

I do not think that the surgeons noticed me at first, although, as
this was my introduction to Balaclava, I had not neglected my personal
appearance, and wore my favourite yellow dress, and blue bonnet, with
the red ribbons; but I noticed one coming to me, who, I think, would
have laughed very merrily had it not been for the poor fellow at my
feet. As it was, he came forward, and shook hands very kindly, saying,
"How do you do, ma'am? Much obliged to you for looking after my poor
fellow; very glad to see you here." And glad they always were, the
kind-hearted doctors, to let me help them look after the sick and
wounded sufferers brought to that fearful wharf.

I wonder if I can ever forget the scenes I witnessed there? Oh! they
were heartrending. I declare that I saw rough bearded men stand by and
cry like the softest-hearted women at the sights of suffering