Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1917-03-22
CHAPTER Win.

oluuey never IOfSOC uer early I'M
pressions of the hospital, although
they were chaotic enough at first
There were uniformed young women
coming and going, efficient cool-eyed,
low of voice. There were long Wis
tas of shining floors and lines of beds.
There were brisk internes with duck
clothes and brass buttons, who eyed
her with friendly, patronizing glanees.
There were bandages and dressings,
and great white screens, behind which
were played little or big dramas,
baths or deaths, as the case might be.
And over all brooded the mysterious
authority of the superintendent of the
training school, dubbed the Head, for
short.
Twelve hours a day, from seven to
seven, with the off-dury intermission,
Sidney labored at tasks which revolted
wards, cleaned closets, folded sheets
and towels, rolled bandages-did ev-
erything but nurse the sick, which was
what she had come to do.
AT night she did not go home. She
sat on the edge of her narrow, white
bed and soaked her aching feet in hot
water and witch-hazel, and practiced
taking pulses on her own slender wrist,
with KS little watch.
Out of all the long, hot days, two
periods stood out clearly, to be waited
for and cherished. One was when,
a r-lx in, ga
in spotless order, the shades drawn
against the August sun, the tables COW
cred with their red covers and the
only sound the drone of the bandage-
machine as Sidney steadily turned it.
Doctor Max passed the door on his
way to the surgical ward beyond, and
gave her CHEEKY greeting. At these
times Sidney's heart beat almost in
time with the ticking of the little
watch.
The other hour was at twilight,
when, work over for the day, the night
nurse, with her rubber-soled shoes and
tired eyes and jangling keys, having
reported and received the night orders,
the nurses gathered in their small par
lor for prayers. It was months before
Sidney got over the exaltation of that
twilight hour, and never did it cease
to bring her healing and peace In a
way, it crystallized for her what the
days work meant: charity and it's sis
ter, service, the promise of rest and
peace. Into the little parlor filed the
nurses, and knelt, folding their tired
hands.
"The Lord is my shepherd" read the
Head out of her worn Bible; II shall
not want"
And the nurses: "He maketh me to
lie down in green pastures: he leadeth
me beside the still waters"
And so on through the psalm to the
assurance at the end, "And will dwell
in the house of the Lord forever"
Now and then there was a death be-
hind one of the white screens. 1t
caused little change in the routine of
the ward. A nurse stayed behind the
screen, and her work was done by the
others. When everything was over,
the time was recorded exactly on the
record, and the body was taken away.
At first it seemed to Sidney that she
could not stand this nearness to death.
She thought the nurses hard because
they took it quietly. Then she found
that it was only stoicism, resignation,
that they had learned. These things
| must be, and the work must go on.
Their philosophy made them no less
tender. Some such patient detachment
must be that of the angels who keep
the Great Record.
On her first Sunday half-holiday, she
was free in the morning, and went to
church with her mother going back to
the hospital after the service. So it
was two weeks before she saw LIE
MoyRe again. Even then, it was only
for short time. Christine and Palmer
Howe came in to see her, and to in
spect the balcony, now finished.
But Sidney and LIE Moyne had few
words together first.
There was change in Sidney. LIE
Moyne was quick to see it. She was a
trifie subdued, with a puzzled look in
her blue eyes. Her mouth was tender,
as always, but he thought it dropped.
There was new atmosphere of visit
fitness about the girl that made his
heart Gehe.
They were alone in the little parlor
with its brown lamp and blue silk
shade. K. never smoked in the parlor,
but by sheer force of habit he held
tbe pipe in his teeth.