ained vague visions of myself, in cropped hair and army
blue, following the drum.

Just at this critical juncture, when common sense was spreading her
pinions for flight, I received a letter from a darling Mentor of a
friend, who was spending the golden sunshine of her life as her Saviour
spent His, in doing good; and she ordered me to the hospitals.

'You have youth and health,' she wrote; 'spend them in the service of
your country. Many a brave soldier lies stiffening in his gore on the
bloody field of Manassas; many as brave are writhing in agony in the
hospitals that received the wounded of that disastrous day; go among
them with words of comfort, and smooth the pillow of those brave
defenders whose blood has been freely poured out to enable _you_ to
sleep in peace.'

I could wait no longer; in spite of protestation, I put my chattels in
order, and was off with a noble band of women, who were all bent on the
same errand.

I had heard nothing from Mr. Summers since his departure: he might have
been killed at Manassas, or have fallen, side by side with the noble
Winthrop, at Big Bethel, or have perished, as the lamented Ellsworth
perished, by the hand of the assassin. I never expected to behold him
again in _this_ world; and I began to think that I had not appreciated
him.

* * * * *

I cannot describe my life as hospital nurse: it was just passing from
one scene of suffering to another; and I had not realized that there
_could_ be so much misery in this bright, beautiful world. At first I
used to tremble and faint; but finally the intense desire to _do_
something for these poor, mutilated wrecks of humanity conquered the
weakness; and I even wondered at my own self-control.

There were pleasant gleams, too, in this life, of utter
self-abandonment; blessings from fever-parched lips; grateful looks from
dying eyes; pleased attention to holy words; and, wrapping all like a
halo, the thought that I was working in very deed, ay, and battling,
too, for the glorious flag that floated over my head.

They were constantly bringing in fresh patients, and the sight roused no
curiosity; but one day, such a ghastly face was upturned to view, as
they placed the shattered body tenderly on a cot, that, involuntarily, I
bent closer.

'Awful things, those Minie wounds,' observed a young surgeon who stood
near me; and then, as he went on to describe how the horrible ball
revolves in the lacerat