the crowded wards
of a hospital.

Two other offerings inspired by the true spirit of earnest and active
philanthropy, related by the same lady, deserve a place here.

"Some farmers' wives in the north of Wisconsin, eighteen miles from a
railroad, had given to the Commission of their bed and table linen,
their husbands' shirts and drawers, their scanty supply of dried and
canned fruits, till they had exhausted their ability to do more in this
direction. Still they were not satisfied. So they cast about to see what
could be done in another way. They were all the wives of small farmers,
lately moved to the West, all living in log cabins, where one room
sufficed for kitchen, parlor, laundry, nursery and bed-room, doing their
own house-work, sewing, baby-tending, dairy-work, and all. What _could_
they do?

"They were not long in devising a way to gratify the longings of their
motherly and patriotic hearts, and instantly set about carrying it into
action. They resolved to beg wheat of the neighboring farmers, and
convert it into money. Sometimes on foot, and sometimes with a team,
amid the snows and mud of early spring, they canvassed the country for
twenty and twenty-five miles around, everywhere eloquently pleading the
needs of the blue-coated soldier boys in the hospitals, the eloquence
everywhere acting as an _open sesame_ to the granaries. Now they
obtained a little from a rich man, and then a great deal from a poor
man--deeds of benevolence are half the time in an inverse ratio to the
ability of the benefactors--till they had accumulated nearly five
hundred bushels of wheat. This they sent to market, obtained the highest
market price for it, and forwarded the proceeds to the Commission. As we
held this hard-earned money in our hands, we felt that it was
consecrated, that the holy purpose and resolution of these noble women
had imparted a sacredness to it."

Very beautiful is the following incident, narrated by the same lady, of
a little girl, one of thousands of the little ones, who have, during the
war, given up precious and valued keepsakes to aid in ministering to the
sick and wounded soldiers. "A little girl not nine years old, with sweet
and timid grace, came into the rooms of the Commission, and laying a
five dollar gold-piece on our desk, half frightened, told us its
history. 'My uncle gave me that before the war, and I was going to keep
it always; but he's got killed in the army, and mother says now I may