on who would get
angry and raise a disturbance on behalf of his patients. I never knew
his name, but if this should meet his eye I trust he will accept my
thanks for his faithfulness to his charge.

On the lower deck, behind the boilers, lay twenty wounded prisoners, who
at first looked sulky; but as I was stepping over and among them, one
caught my dress, looked up pleadingly, and said:

"Mother, can't you get me some soft bread? I can't eat this hard-tack."

He was young, scarce more than a boy; had large, dark eyes, a good
head--tokens of gentle nurture--and alas! a thigh stump. He told me he
was of a Mississippi regiment, and his name Willie Gibbs. I bathed his
hot face, and said I would see about the bread; then went to another
part of the deck, where our men were very closely packed, and stated the
case to them. There was very little soft bread--it was theirs by right;
what should I do? I think they all spoke at once, and all said the same
words:

"Oh, mother! give the Johnnies the soft bread! we can eat hard-tack!"

I think I was impartial, but there was a temptation to give Willie Gibbs
a little more than his share of attention. His face was so sad, and
there was so little hope that he would ever again see those who loved
him, that I think I did more for him than for any other one on board.
His companions came to call me "mother," and I hope felt their captivity
softened by my care; and often rebel hands supported me while I crouched
at work.

When we approached Washington, I proposed rewarding the cook for the
incalculable service she had rendered, but she replied:

"No, ma'am, I will not take anything from you 'cept that apron! When we
get to Washington, you will not want it any more, an' I'll keep it all
my life to remember you, and leave it to my children! Lord! there isn't
another lady in the world could 'a done what you've done; an' I know
you're a lady! Them women with the fine clothes is trying to pass for
ladies, but, Lord! I know no lady 'u'd dress up that way in a place like
this, an' men know it, too--just look at you, an' how you do make them
fellers in shoulderstraps stand 'round!"

Her observation showed her Southern culture, for whatever supremacy the
North may have over the South, Southern ladies are far in advance of
those of the North in the art of dress. A Southern lady seldom commits
an incongruity, or fails to dress according to age, weather, and the
occasion. I do not think any on