ia," said he. "Take some
quinine tonight, and come to surgeon's call in the morning."

[Illustration: She gave him a piece of her mind 229]

The little woman, the rebel angel, got her back up at the coolness of
the doctor; and she gave him a piece of her mind, and then he called for
a candle, and he examined me carefully. When he got through, he said:

"He is going to have a run of fever. He must be sent to the hospital.
Jim, go tell the driver to send the ambulance here at once, and you,
Jim, go along and see that this fellow gets to the hospital all right.
He can't live here in a tent, and I doubt if he will in the hospital."

That settled it. In a short time the ambulance came, and I got in and
sat on a seat, and the rebel angel got in with me, and we rode seven
miles to the hospital, over the roughest road a sick man ever jolted
over, and I would have died, if I could have had my own way about it,
but the little woman talked so cheerfully that when we arrived at the
great building, I should have considered myself well, only that my mind
was wandering. All I remember of my entrance to the hospital was that
when we got out of the ambulance Jim was there on his horse, leading the
mule belonging to the angel. Some attendants helped me up stairs, and
down a corridor, where we met two stretchers being carried out to the
dead house with bodies on them, and I had to sit in a chair and wait
till clean sheets could be put on one of the cots where a man had just
died. The little woman told me to keep up my courage, and she would come
and see me often, Jim cried and said he would come everyday, a man said,
"your bed is ready, No. 197," and I laid down as No. 197, and didn't care
whether I ever got up again or not. I just had breath enough left to bid
the angel good bye, and tell Jim to see her safe home. Jim said, "You
bet your life I will," and the world seemed blotted out, and for all I
cared, I was dead.

CHAPTER XVI.

My Varied Experiences in the Hospital--The Doctor Seems Sure
of My Death--I Suggest the Postponement of My Funeral--I Get
Very Sick of Gruel--I Go Back to my Regiment.

Let's see, last week I wound up in the hospital. When Jim, my old
comrade, and the rebel angel, left me, I to all intents and purposes. I
supposed I was going to sleep, but after I got well enough to know what
was going on, I found that for about ten days I had been out of my
head. It was not much of a head to get ou