great hurry, and before
the dew was off the grass this branch of the S. C. was all astir.
Papa, mamma, big brother and baby sister, men and maids, all looked out
to see the funny little ambulance depart, and nowhere in all the summer
fields was there a happier child than Nelly, as she went smiling down
the garden path, where tall flowers kissed her as she passed and every
blithe bird seemed singing a "Good speed!"

"How I wonder what I shall find first," she thought, looking sharply on
all sides as she went. Crickets chirped, grasshoppers leaped, ants
worked busily at their subterranean houses, spiders spun shining webs
from twig to twig, bees were coming for their bags of gold, and
butterflies had just begun their holiday. A large white one alighted
on the top of the ambulance, walked over the inscription as if spelling
it letter by letter, then floated away from flower to flower, like one
carrying the good news far and wide.

"Now every one will know about the hospital and be glad to see me
coming," thought Nelly. And indeed it seemed so, for just then a
black-bird, sitting on a garden wall, burst out with a song full of
musical joy, Nelly's kitten came running after to stare at the wagon
and rub her soft side against it, a bright-eyed toad looked out from
his cool bower among the lily-leaves, and at that minute Nelly found
her first patient. In one of the dewy cobwebs hanging from a shrub
near by sat a fat black and yellow spider, watching a fly whose
delicate wings were just caught in the net. The poor fly buzzed
pitifully, and struggled so hard that the whole web shook: but the more
he struggled, the more he entangled himself, and the fierce spider was
preparing to descend that it might weave a shroud about its prey, when
a little finger broke the threads and lifted the fly safely into the
palm of a hand, where he lay faintly humming his thanks.

Nelly had heard much about contrabands, knew who they were, and was
very much interested in them; so, when she freed the poor black fly she
played he was her contraband, and felt glad that her first patient was
one that needed help so much. Carefully brushing away as much of the
web as she could, she left small Pompey, as she named him, to free his
own legs, lest her clumsy fingers should hurt him; then she laid him in
one of the soft beds with a grain or two of sugar if he needed
refreshment, and bade him rest and recover from his fright, remembering
that he was a