ached her cottage that night weary and depressed. She had
had nothing to eat since breakfast, and yet was too tired to prepare
supper. She made her a cup of tea which she drank standing, and then
crept into bed only to lie staring into the darkness tortured by the
thought of those heavy weights on Bowinski's injured leg.
The result of her weariness and exposure was a sharp attack of
tonsilitis that kept her in bed several weeks. The first time she was
able to be up, she began to count the hours until the next visiting day
at the Camp. Her basket was packed the evening before, and placed beside
the box of carnations in which she had extravagantly indulged. It is
doubtful whether Miss Mink was ever so happy in her life as during that
hour of pleased expectancy.
As she moved feebly about putting the house in order, so that she could
make an early start in the morning, she discovered a letter that the
Postman had thrust under the side door earlier in the day. Across the
left hand corner was pictured an American flag, and across the right was
a red triangle in a circle. She hastily tore off the envelop and read:
Dear Miss Mink:
I am out the Hospital, getting along fine. Hope you are in the same
circumstances. I am sending you a book which I got from a Dear Young
Lady, in the Hospital. I really do not know what to call her because
I do not know her name, but I know she deserve a nice, nice name for
all good She dose to all soldiers. I think she deserve more
especially from me than to call her a Sweet Dear Lady, because that
I have the discouragement, and she make me to laugh and take heart.
I would ask your kind favor to please pass the book back to the
Young Lady, and pleas pass my thankful word to her, and if you might
be able to send me her name before that I go to France, which I
learn is very soon. Excuse all errors if you pleas will. This is
goodby from
Your soldier friend,
A. BOWINSKI.
Miss Mink read the letter through, then she sat down limply in a kitchen
chair and stared at the stove. Twice she half rose to get the pen and
ink on the shelf above the coal box, but each time she changed her mind,
folded her arms indignantly, and went back to her stern contemplation of
the stove. Presently a tear rolled down her cheek, then another, and
another until she dropped her tired old face in her tired old hands, and
gave a long silent sob that shook her sligh
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