giving untold comfort to our poor exhausted wounded
men, whose rough hospital couches were made by pine boughs with the
stems cut out, spread upon the ground over which their blankets were
thrown. This forms the bed, and the poor fellows' blouses, saturated
with their own blood, is their only pillow, their knapsacks being left
behind when they went into battle. More sanitary goods are on the way,
and will be brought to relieve the men as soon as possible."

Amidst all this care for others, there was little thought for her own
comfort. She says in another place:

"Our bed was composed of dry leaves, spread with a rubber and soldier's
blanket--our own blankets, with pillows and all, having been given out
to sufferers long before night."

In this diary we find another illustration of her extreme modesty.
Though intended but for the eyes of her own family, she says much of
Mrs. Bickerdyke's work, and but little of her own. Two, three, or four
hundred men, weary and exhausted, would be sent to them, and they must
exert every nerve to feed them, while they snatched a little rest.
Pickles, sauer-kraut, coffee and hard bread they gave to these--for the
sick and wounded they reserved their precious luxuries. With a fire made
out of doors, beneath a burning sun, and in kettles such as they could
find, and of no great capacity, they made coffee, mush, and cooked dried
fruit and vegetables, toiling unweariedly through the long hot days and
far into the nights. Many of the men knew Mrs. Bickerdyke, for many of
them she had nursed through wounds and sickness during the two years
she had been with this army, and she was saluted as "Mother" on all
sides. Not less grateful were they to Mrs. Porter. Again she says:

"The failing and faint-hearted are constantly coming in. They report
themselves sick, and a few days of rest and nourishing food will restore
most of them, but some have made their last march, and will soon be laid
in a soldier's grave! Mrs. Bickerdyke has sent gruel and other food,
which I have been distributing according to the wants of the prostrate
multitude, all on the _floor_. Some are very sick men. It is a pleasure
to do something for them. They are all dear to some circle, and are a
noble company."

Again she gives a sort of summary of her work in a letter, dated
Kingston, Georgia, June 1st: "We have received, fed, and comforted at
this hospital, during the past week, between four and five thousand
wounded men,