Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1916-11-22
EXTRACTS FROM THE AUTO
BIOGRAPHY OF
JANE GREY SWISSFIELM
First Newspaper Woman Of
Minnesota.
A Remarkable Woman Of Ante.
bellum 0ayo-1015-1e66
c H A P T E r VI.

AoP @Ay ~AAAeAos
The second or third day of my hos
pital work, Mrs. Gaylord, the Chap
lain's wife, came and inquired to what
order I belonged, saying that the off,
GERS Of the hospital were anxious to
know. L laughed, and told her I be-
longed exclusively to myself, and did
not know of any order which would
care to own me. Then she very polite
ly inquired my name and told her it
was Mrs. Jeremiah Shocks, when she
went away, apparently doubling my
statement. I had been in Campbell al
most week, when DR.. Kelly came and
said:
Madam. have been commissioned
by the officers Of this hospital to ascer-
tain your name. None of us know how
to address you. and it is very awkward
either In speaking to you, or Of you, not
to be able to name YOU.
Doctor, will not Mrs. Shocks do for
name, for all the time shall be
here?"
no, madam, it will not do"
I was very unwilling to give my
name. which was prominently before
the public, on account Of my Indian lee
lures and Tribune letters, but seemed
to have at least a months work to do
in Campbell. Hospital stores were
pouring into my city address, and being
sent to me at rate which created
much wonder, and the men who had
given me their confidence had q right
to know who I was.
So gave my name and must repeat
1t before the Doctor could realize the
astounding fact; even then he took off
his cap and said:
1T is not possible you are the Mrs.
--, the lady who lectured in
Doctor Sunderland's church,
LOT I'D vii
flourish of trumpets. For two hours
my patients seemed afraid of me, and
it did seem too bad to merge that gian-
tess of the bean-pole and the press and
the tall woman of the platform both in
poor little insignificant me! 1t was like
blotting out the big bear and the mid
dle-sized bear from the old bear story,
and leaving only the one poor little bear
to growl over his pot of porridge.
In Ward Five was one man who had
laid on his left side, and never could be
moved while he lived. His right arm
suffered for lack of support, and when
1 knelt to give him nourishment from
a spoon, and pray with him that the
deliverer would soon come. lie always
laid that arm over my shoulders. The
first time 1 knelt there after I was
known, he said:
"Ah, you are such great lady, and
do not mind a poor soldier laying his
| arm over your
Christ, the great Captain of our Sal
vation," I replied. gathers you in his
arms and pillows your head upon his
bosom. Am I greater than he? Your
good right arm has fought for liberty,
| and it is an honor to support it, when
you are no longer able"
But nothing else I could ever say to
him, was so much comfort as the old
cry of the sufferer by the wayside,
Jesus, thou son Of David, have mercy
on me-"
Over and over again we said that
prayer in concert, while he waited in
agony for the only relief possible-that
Of death; and from our last interview I
returned to the bad ward, so sad that
felt the shadow of my face fall upon
every man in it. I could not drive
away deaths gloom; but I could work
and talk, and both work and talk were
| needed.
sat down between two young Irish
men,; both with wounded heads, and
began to battle them, and comfort them.