rses went off duty, the night
watch came on, and my nocturnal adventures began.

My ward was now divided into three rooms; and under favor of the matron,
I had managed to sort out the patients in such a way that I had what I
called my "duty room," my "pleasure room," and my "pathetic room," and
worked for each in a different way. One I visited armed with a
dressing-tray full of rollers, plasters, and pins; another, with books,
flowers, games, and gossip; a third, with teapots, lullabies,
consolation, and sometimes a shroud.

Wherever the sickest or most helpless man chanced to be, there I held my
watch, often visiting the other rooms to see that the general watchman
of the ward did his duty by the fires and the wounds, the latter needing
constant wetting. Not only on this account did I meander, but also to
get fresher air than the close rooms afforded; for owing to the
stupidity of that mysterious "somebody" who does all the damage in the
world, the windows had been carefully nailed down above, and the lower
sashes could only be raised in the mildest weather, for the men lay just
below. I had suggested a summary smashing of a few panes here and there,
when frequent appeals to headquarters had proved unavailing and daily
orders to lazy attendants had come to nothing. No one seconded the
motion, however, and the nails were far beyond my reach; for though
belonging to the sisterhood of "ministering angels," I had no wings, and
might as well have asked for a suspension bridge as a pair of steps in
that charitable chaos.

One of the harmless ghosts who bore me company during the haunted hours
was Dan, the watchman, whom I regarded with a certain awe; for though so
much together, I never fairly saw his face, and but for his legs should
never have recognized him, as we seldom met by day. These legs were
remarkable, as was his whole figure: for his body was short, rotund, and
done up in a big jacket and muffler; his beard hid the lower part of his
face, his hat-brim the upper, and all I ever discovered was a pair of
sleepy eyes and a very mild voice. But the legs!--very long, very thin,
very crooked and feeble, looking like gray sausages in their tight
coverings, and finished off with a pair of expansive green cloth shoes,
very like Chinese junks with the sails down. This figure, gliding
noiselessly about the dimly lighted rooms, was strongly suggestive of
the spirit of a beer-barrel mounted on corkscrews, haunting the old
h