ressed the muscle into a natural, easy position, cooed and talked and
comforted the sufferer, as I should have done a sick baby, and in ten
minutes he was asleep.

Then I whispered the nurses to bring cotton and oakum, and little
cushions; made them put the cotton and oakum, in small tufts, to my
index fingers; and while I crooned my directions in a sing-song lullaby
air, I worked in this support, gradually and imperceptibly withdrawing
my hands, until I could substitute the little cushions for the force by
which they held the muscle in proper position. This done, my boy-soldier
slept as sweetly as ever he had done in his crib.

Next morning a nurse came running for me to hurry to him. He had slept
six hours, waked, had his breakfast, and had his wound dressed, and now
the pain was back bad as ever. I went, fixed the mangled muscle with
reference to his change of position, made a half-mould to hold it there,
and before I had finished he began an eight-hour sleep. Ten days after
he was sent home to his mother, and I saw or heard of him no more.

CHAPTER LIX.

HEROIC AND ANTI-HEROIC TREATMENT.

The other ward in which I was not welcome, adjoined that one in which my
room was situated, and to reach it I must go out of doors or pass
through one-half the length of that ward. In these passages I had an
opportunity for studying Piemia and its ordinary treatment, and could
give the men lemonade when they wanted it.

In this ward lay a young German with a wounded ankle. He had a broad,
square forehead, skin white as wax, large blue eyes and yellow hair,
inclined to curl. His whole appearance indicated high culture, and an
organization peculiarly sensitive to pleasure or pain; but no one seemed
to understand that he suffered more than others from a like cause.

Surgeon and nurses scoffed at his moans, and thought it babyish, for a
muscular man over six feet to show so many signs of pain. I think that
from some cause, the surgeon felt vindictive toward him, and that his
subordinates took their cue from him. When I went to give him lemonade,
he would clutch my hand or dress, look up in my face, and plead:

"Oh, mutter! mutter!"

But if I sat down to soothe and comfort him, a nurse always came to
remind me of the surgeon's orders, and I used to go around on the
outside, that he might not see and call me. When he was in the
amputation room I heard his shrieks and groans, and carried a glass of
wine to the door for him