Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1919-08-01

Marge, I've been dwelling on this
very theme some time. And, as if
sent for an illustration of the facts
in the case here enters on the scene
an English nurse from London, via
Canada. Middle-aged, a widow on
duty at night. High school girl gone
home on vacation to Michigan. Told
me ~ packing her trunk and how
all the neighborS for miles around
would come flocking in to see it un-
into that trunk, Marge, and saylng,
Il d'clair, how purify! Well. as I'd
been mentally fixing it up about the
English [ wasn't overly. glad to see
Mrs. Murdoch take charge o me.
guess was sort of prejudiced
4 against her from the very start, al
ways covertly watching her for an
exhibition of English temperament,
which isn't like Scotch. [ grew to
comparing Murdy and Scotchy and l
named them my book of Scottish
chiefs. I read it when a, kid and it
Scotch and English combined and
looked forward to rich developments.
1t didn't take things long to happen,
either. l got up my first big weep
fraceable to a nurse. OF course it
was Murdy who bIunted the tears
forth in her abrupt fashion. I'd
suffered acutely that day. Scotchy
was sympathetic and called Dr. Will
kins to get permission to use an
ice pack. 1t requires as much red
tape to get relief here as it does to
get government position! Nurses
don't dare administer things with
out orders from physicians, but doc
, tor wasn't in, so Scotchy slipped me
in small ice pack regardless, cause
she loves me, doctor or no 'dOctah.
And, l didn't give her away, either.
If I'd been all English. 1 would have
blurted it out in spite of faith! L
wanted a hot water bottle. Ice
packs weren't used back in Spratts
and 1 didn't want my brains froze
out! Scotchy took the pack away be-
peared. 1 set in on her for a bot
tie. And, 1 must have set out in
English style-o, because it reused
Murdys ire when English met Eng
lish (the ice pack had froze the
Dutch part out), and she took her
own good time about that bottle. 1
let in on her again until finally she
flounced in with it and hatefully
said, well, you've got it; maybe
you'll be satisfied whether it does
you any good or not!' Can you beat
that Marge? She t;ouced out again,
and 1 settled down for a big cry.
When you've suffered bravely long
time and then seek relief only to
get a dose of English meted out to
you, it's tough, l say. But, l chung
to my blue flannel-swathed bottle,
which relieved me so that they kept
it filled all along and Sister Agnes
would fetch it in and remark: Here S
your baby. You've taken great lIk-
ing to it, and smile sWeetly. She S
not English.
I tried to hate Murdy, but She
wasn't like that any more, she be
gan to act human and talk and ad-
wise me wonderfully.
,ierI, slant n
usual only to rudely awake about
midnight. I heard piercing screams
one after another. My door was shut;
an unusual thing. 1 never heard
such agonizing. heart-rending walls
in MY life They could be heard
blocks away. Such a clear, strong
voice. Footsteps ran along the hall.
l could hear hands searching an in
;trument case. Voices in hushed
whispers; commands. My room was
torture Confined therein, knowing
nothing, but imagining horrors un-
Speakable. l wished my door would
open, or someone would speak to me!
The voice was first screaming. ooh,
Melvin! Oh, Melvin! Oh, God!' Then
would begin at low scale and travel
upward, crying those names out
piercingly. Also, adding words l
couldn't understand. I feared some
one had tried to poIsOn themselves,
then regretted as rney always do,
when too late. l stood it as long as
l could. 1t was uuspeakable torture
TO me. Every nerve a-quiver, my
body a-tremble. Then L buried my
face in the pillow, stopped my ears,
shutting out part of it. [ tried, to