range lady," a title she had unconsciously earned
from the fact that she had been in the habit of distributing oranges
freely to such of the patients as were allowed to have them.

The experience of life often shows us the importance of little acts
which so frequently have an entirely disproportionate result. Mrs.
Parrish found this true in her hospital ministrations. Little gifts and
attentions often opened the way to the closed hearts of those to whom
she ministered, and enabled her to reach the innermost concealed
thought-life of her patients.

A soldier sat in his chair, wrapped in his blanket, forlorn, haggard
from disease, sullen, selfish in expression, and shrinking from her
notice as she passed him. To her morning salutation, he would return
only a cold recognition. He seemed to be bristling with defenses against
encroachment. And thus it remained till one day a small gift penetrated
to the very citadel of his fortress.

"Shall I read to you?" she commenced, kindly, to which he replied,
surlily, "Don't want reading." "Shall I write to any of your friends?"
she continued. "I hav'n't any friends," he said in the sourest tone.
Repulsed, but not baffled, she presently, and in the same kind manner,
took an orange from her basket, and gently asked him if he would accept
it. There was a perceptible brightening of his face, but he only
answered, in the same surly tone, as he held forth his hand, "Don't care
if I do."

And yet, in a little time, his sullen spirit yielded--he spread all his
troubles before the friend he had so long repulsed, and opening his
heart, showed that what had seemed so selfish and moody in him, arose
from a deep sense of loneliness and discouragement, which disappeared
the moment the orange had unlocked his heart, and admitted her to his
confidence and affection.

About six weeks she spent thus in alternate visits to the various
hospitals in the vicinity of Washington, though her labors were
principally confined to the Georgetown Hospital, where they commenced,
and where her last visit was made.

As her home duties called her at that time, she returned thither,
briefly. Soon after she reached home, she received a letter from one of
her former patients to whom she had given her address, requesting her to
call at the Broad and Cherry Street Hospital, in Philadelphia. She did
so, and on entering the building found herself surrounded by familiar
faces. Her old Washington friends had just arriv