g displayed her load,
hurried to the hospital, where another applicant was waiting for her.
On the step of the door lay a large turtle, with one claw gone, and on
his back was pasted a bit of paper, with his name,--"Commodore Waddle,
U.S.N." Nelly knew this was a joke of Will's, but welcomed the ancient
mariner, and called Tony to help her get him in.

All that morning they were very busy settling the new-comers, for both
people and books had to be consulted before they could decide what diet
and treatment was best for each. The winged contraband had taken Nelly
at her word, and flown away on the journey home. Little Rob was put in
a large cage, where he could use his legs, yet not injure his lame
wing. Forked-tongue lay under a wire cover, on sprigs of fennel, for
the gardener said that snakes were fond of it. The Babes in the Wood
were put to bed in one of the rush baskets, under a cotton-wool
coverlet. Greenback, the beetle, found ease for his unknown aches in
the warm heart of a rose, where he sunned himself all day. The
Commodore was made happy in a tub of water, grass, and stones, and Mr.
Fuzz was put in a well-ventilated glass box to decide whether he would
be a cocoon or not.

Tony had not been idle while his mistress was away, and he showed her
the hospital garden he had made close by, in which were cabbage,
nettle, and mignonette plants for the butterflies, flowering herbs for
the bees, chick-weed and hemp for the birds, catnip for the pussies,
and plenty of room left for whatever other patients might need. In the
afternoon, while Nelly did her task at lint-picking, talking busily to
Will as she worked, and interesting him in her affairs, Tony cleared a
pretty spot in the grove for the burying-ground, and made ready some
small bits of slate on which to write the names of those who died. He
did not have it ready an hour too soon, for at sunset two little graves
were needed, and Nurse Nelly shed tender tears for her first losses as
she laid the motherless mice in one smooth hollow, and the gray-coated
rebel in the other. She had learned to care for him already, and when
she found him dead, was very glad she had been kind to him, hoping that
he knew it, and died happier in her hospital than all alone in the
shadowy wood.

The rest of Nelly's patients prospered, and of the many added afterward
few died, because of Tony's skilful treatment and her own faithful
care. Every morning when the day proved fair th