Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1917-11-14
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no one spoke to her. She had come
ito the strange country to look for Jan.
For a long time she had had no word
from him. The dear father and mother
had died, so Gundrun sold the little
moss-roofed home which nestled
among the snow-capped hills of her be-
loved Norway and had come across the
sea to find the dear lover. 1t all
seemed so simple and easy that she
almost felt she might see him stand
ing on the pier watching for her. Sure
ly everyone would know him, he was
so big and handsome, so good and SO
kind and so wise. Oh, no one knew
so much as Jan. And from her full
heart there rose little Norwegian
song, so wild and free. so weird and
sweet-a song of JAMS, one he had
taught her, for Jan could write songs,
and no greater joy had Gundrun than
in singing them.
Jan was not on the pier waiting for
her, and when she asked for him. no
one needed her questioning.
Oh, how strange and cold this new
country was-no one knew anyone
else, everyone was in such hurry, all
seemed so busy-did they ever rest?
How unlike the quiet, peaceful home
across the sea!
Indignation held sway among the
nurses of the big emergency hospital,
for Miss Elton, the superintendent,
had committed crime without prece-
dent. She had received as proba-
toner Gundrun, the little dining-room
maid.
"And if she gets through her pro-
baton and is accepted, shall CO."
declared the head nurse.
Sand I shall stay" retorted the sur
gerry nurse, for between them was
fierce rivalry and they made it point
never to agree with one another In
anything.
"I suppose you think we couldn't
run the place without you," sneered
the first speaker.
'Not quite so bad as that, DEAR" re-
turned the other, "but will say, there
are nurses in this hospital whose res
ignation would be much more readily
accepted than mine" This thrust
silenced her rival, who made up her
mind, however, that whatever the out
come of Gundrun's probation, she, the
head nurse, would remain If for no
other reason than to spite "that con-
ceited thing" in the surgery.
The outcome was in Gundrun's IA
vor. Quiet, gentle and thoughtful, she
proved herself in every way worthy Of
the profession and ere long not one
among that blue-and-white gowned
band of women who fitted about from
ward to ward and from bed to bed car
rying relief and comfort to suffering
humanity, but were glad to have Gun
drum their friend.
Among the patients there was not
one whose eye did not brighten as it
rested on the prettily rounded figure,
the crown of golden hair, the deep blue
eyes, so gentle and loving, and yet so
sad. At night, in the dimly lighted
halls in whose shadowy depths is
needed no abnormally imaginative
mind to conjure up many gruesome
sight ; in the cold, white surgery, where
in the Vice. small hours of the proceed
ings of the preceding day were all too
vividly pictured on the unusually
acute sense; in the long wards with
the narrow, white beds ranged in rows
against the walls, with the dull yellow
light casting an almost death pallor
on the sleeping faces, quiet and sad
little Gundrun strangely harmonized,
as she glided silently along the dim
halls, in and out of the gloomy wards,
,freshening a rumpled pillow, moisten-
ing fever-parched lips, soothing to rest
with soft, caressing hand an over
wrought brain and pausing to each
bedside to assure herself Of the COM
fort of each sufferer in her care.
"Be watchful of the man in number
forty" warned the doctor as he said
good night. Hes threatened with a
high fever and I want to check it If
I can"
When Gundrun finished her rounds
she stole into the sickroom. On the
bed lay a tall, blond man, his flushed,
heavily bearded face but half discern
ible in the soft light.
She Strengthened the disordered bed,
cooled the hot pillow, bathed the
flushed face and burning hands, and
then, seating herself in little, low
chair at the bedside, stroked with soft
and cooling hand the throbbing brow.
But in vain. It seemed as if sleep
would never again close those burning
eyes. Finally she bethought herself
Iof the little Norwegian Song-Jan's
song-she used to sing in the dear land
she feared she would never see again.
Sweetly, yet softly, her voice rose and
fell, and as she sang her thoughts were
over the sea.
Unheeded lay the sufferer, at her
side, unheeded the shadowy halls, the