The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-05-30
SPECIAL MESSENGER.
Sparkling Romance in Robert w.
 Chambers New Book.

'"The Volunteer Nurse sighed and spread out her slender iodine-stained fingers on both knees, looking down at them re- fectively," writes Robert W. Chambers in his latest novel, Special Messenger
 Tt Is different now," she said; "senti- ment dies under the scalpel. In the filth and squalor of reality neither the belief In romance nor the capacity for desiring it endure long. Even pity becomes atro- phied-or, at least a reflex habit; sym pathy, sorrow, remain as mechanical re- actions, not spontaneous emotions You , can understand that, dear?' , Partly" said the Special Messenger, raising her dark eyes to her old school mate.
 Tn the beginning said the Nurse dreamily, "the men in their uniforms, the drums and horses and glitter, and the flags passing, and youth-youth-not that you and I are yet old in years; do you know what l mean?"
 T know,' said the Special Messenger, smoothing out her riding gloves Do you remember the cadets at Oxley? You loved one of them
 Yes; you know how 1t was in the cities. and even afterward in Washington--I mean the hospitals after Bull Run. Young bravery-the Zouaves-the multi-colored guard regiments-and romance in every death!" She laid one stained hand over the other fingers still wide. But here in this blackened horror they call the seat of war'-this fostering bull pen, choked with dreary regiments, all alike. all in filthy blue-here individuals vanish, men vanish. The school girl dream of man dies here forever. Only unwashed, naked duty remains and it's inspiration, man-bloody, dirty vermin covered, ter rible-sometimes; and sometimes whimp- ering, terrified, fiinching, base, bereft of all his sex's glamour, all his mystery, shorn of authority, devoid of pride, pitia- Die, screaming under the knife, It is dff- ferent now" said the pretty Volunteer Nurse. "The war kills more than human life."
 The Special Messenger drew her buck skin gloves carefully through her belt and buttoned the holster of her revolver.
 'l have seen war. too," she said, and the men who dealt death and the men who received 1t. Their mystery remains the glamour of a man remains for me because he is man..
 l have heard them crying like children in the stretchers."
 So have l. That solves nothing"
 But the Nurse went on
 And in the wards they sometimes something betwixt devils and children. All the weakness and failings they attribute to women come out in them-fear, timid- ity, inconsequence, greed. malice gossip, And, as for courage-I tell you. women bear pain better
 Yes, have learned that. It is not dif- ficult to beguile them either; to lead them, to read them. That is part of my work. I do it. I know they are afraid in battle-the intelligent ones Yet they fight. I know they are really children impulsive, passionate, selfish, often cruel but, after all. they are here fighting this war-here encamped all around us throughout these hills and forests. They have lost none of their glamour for me. Their mystery remains"
 The Volunteer Nurse looked up with tired smile.
 You always were emotional, dear"
 The Special Messenger laughed, and her lovely, pale face lighted up with color.
 Don't you really think you are ever