his man could be laid out of the
draught and chill of that basement, and she would do her best to get
some clothing for him. She sent two men with a stretcher, who took him
to the church tent, where I fear he was not much better provided for
than in the place he left.

After some days, Mrs. Gen. Barlow came to see the men who all belonged
to her husband's division, and were rejoiced to see her; and to express
a general fear for my life. I was to die of overwork and want of sleep,
"and then," she exclaimed, "what will become of these men? No one but
you ever could or would have done anything for them. Do you know there
were three surgeons detailed for duty here, before you came, and none of
them would stay? Now if you die, they will. Do take some rest!"

I listened and looked at her flushed face, while she talked, and said:

"Mrs. Barlow, I am not going to die--am in no danger whatever, and will
hold out until help comes. This cannot last; Government will come to the
rescue, and my men will be here when it comes. After all is over, I will
fall to pieces like an old stage coach when the king-bolt drops out;
will lie around as lumber for a while, then some one will put me
together again, and I will be good as new. It is you who are killing
yourself. You must change your arrangements or you will take typhoid
fever, and after such a strain, recovery will be hopeless. I take
nobody's disease--am too repellant; but you will catch contagion very
readily. Keep away from fever cases and rest; you are in imminent
peril." She hurried away, laughing at the idea of one in her perfect
health being injured by hard work; but my heart was full of evil omen. I
had talked with Mrs. Senator Pomeroy, on her way from her last visit to
the Contraband camp, where she gave her life in labor for the friendless
and poor, and she had looked very much as Mrs. Barlow did that day.

Soon after this, I was made glad by the sight of my friend, Mrs. Judge
Ingersol. People say her daughter, Mrs. Gov. Chamberlain, is a beauty,
but she is not old enough ever to have been as beautiful as her mother,
that day, in her plain widow's dress, walking among the wounded, with
her calm face so full of strength and gentleness.

She and Mrs. Barlow had hatched a rebellion. In the city was a barn
containing straw, for want of which our men were dying. It was guarded
by one of Gen. Barlow's men. Mrs. Barlow took two others, went with
them, placed herself in front of