The Cape Girardeau Democrat. (Cape Girardeau, Mo.) 1876-1909, 1898-01-15
Told in Her Letters.
By Murray Eyre.

THE night nurse sat writing in the
angle at the far end of the male
surgical ward. A screen across the
table hid her lamp, while the rest of the
ward was but dimly lit. From the beds
came the sound of sleepers breathing
regularly, broken now and then by a
feVerish muttering from some restless
patient, or by the scarce repressed
grooming of the man who had that day
been operated on for cancer Night
after night. week after week, for
months mad she kept her silent vigil
there, and she was weary of it. Some
times the grim scene surrounding her
strained her nerves until the desire for
more active work possessed her to a
degree well-nigh beyond endurance. In
such mood she often penciled letters
without restraint Dr. consideration-to
no one in particular, the offspring of
her brain-tired fancy-whose destiny
was to be thrust impatiently into the
fire when dawn crept grayly through
the window beside her.
Nurse Ruth was an impulsive m
though her great pathetic eyes misled
you into thinking differently. \ wom-
an of contradictions, as was witnessed
by her tlippancy of speech and her
sweet. grave manner. She did her duty
bravely enough to her patients, and
they loved her. The younger students,
also, had ofttimes cause to be grateful
to her for some well-timed hint that
screened their glaring mistakes from
being discovered. She was tired of her
work. of her life, that night, and, i'm
patient with herself, began to walk
slowly round the ward. The man of the
cancer operation looked pitifully at her
as she passed, and, coming back, she
stopped to give him some milk, while
she afterwards took his temperature
ere she returned to her table. Present.
iy she rang the house surgeons bell,
and stood waiting with the thermom-
eter in her hand until he came. She
passed it to him silently.
where on earth did you get this
Not from"
She nodded. A look of cCnrern ap-
peared in his eyes, and, keeping Ter
thermometer, he went quickly to the
bed. The man, who was at last drowsy,
sighed when the doctor unbuttoned his
shirt and laid a finger on HIS pulse.
The doctor looked puzzled. He counted
the beats carefully and listened to the
breathing. Taking his thermometer
from under the mans arm, he went
back to Nurse Ruth's table. He COM
pared the two there. His registered
IO1.2 degrees, hers 100 degrees. Watch
ing him her face crimsoned.
Il held it over the lamp, sir" she
said; and though she laughed, her eyes
Were full of tears.
"Ah. yes. l understand, nurse"
He sat down for a few moments, the
two thermometers still on the table
before him. When he got up, he said,
'dreamily:
Perhaps you'd better go on day duty |
again. Good night, nurse!"
For an hour after he had gone she |
lay across the table with her head on
her arms, and made no sound. Time
went by. and as the city clocks marked
it she heard every stroke. Finally she
SdJ up. anu Willie llSlcIlhS II SUI
emn tolls she wrote an application to
the house urgeon to ask for a c~ertiti-
cate of qualification as a nurse. He
afterwards gave her the certificate in Il
formal letter; but at the same time he
wrote another that was not official. Her
reply gives the gist of it:
What can you mean, sir, by speaking of
a letter that l wrote as SO much cheek" I
do not understand it. thought it business
like. By your manner this afternoon in the
ward you seemed appalled, that I'should
write to you. What and who are you, that
I should hesitate to address you? I cam
not but rejoice that you have given so
good a testimony of my capabilities. 1t is
gratifying to my feelings, too, that you
have not perjured yourself in giving it.
What is the strong point in my character
that some people might like? Do you like
1t? Why not add it to the testimonial? I
don't like any light to be hid under a
Lushel."
Nurse" called the house surgeon the
after he had received it, and
Nurse Ruth" he called after
her in the corridor outside the door of