Chapter 5

CHAPTER V: OFF DUTY.

"My dear girl, we shall have you sick in your bed, unless you
keep yourself warm and quiet for a few days. Widow Wadman can
take care of the ward alone, now the men are so comfortable, and
have her vacation when you are about again. Now do be prudent in
time, and don't let me have to add a Periwinkle to my bouquet of
patients."

This advice was delivered, in a paternal manner, by the youngest
surgeon in the hospital, a kind-hearted little gentleman, who
seemed to consider me a frail young blossom, that needed much
cherishing, instead of a tough old spinster, who had been
knocking about the world for thirty years. At the time I write
of, he discovered me sitting on the stairs, with a nice cloud of
unwholesome steam rising from the washroom; a party of January
breezes disporting themselves in the halls; and perfumes, by no
means from "Araby the blest," keeping them company; while I
enjoyed a fit of coughing, which caused my head to spin in a way
that made the application of a cool banister both necessary and
agreeable, as I waited for the frolicsome wind to restore the
breath I'd lost; cheering myself, meantime, with a secret
conviction that pneumonia was waiting for me round the corner.
This piece of advice had been offered by several persons for a
week, and refused by me with the obstinacy with which my sex is
so richly gifted. But the last few hours had developed several
surprising internal and external phenomena, which impressed upon
me the fact that if I didn't make a masterly retreat very soon, I
should tumble down somewhere, and have to be borne ignominiously
from the field. My head felt like a cannon ball; my feet had a
tendency to cleave to the floor; the walls at times undulated in
a most disagreeable manner; people looked unnaturally big; and
the "very bottles on the mankle shelf" appeared to dance
derisively before my eyes. Taking these things into
consideration. while blinking stupidly at Dr. Z., I resolved to
retire gracefully, if I must; so, with a valedictory to my boys,
a private lecture to Mrs. Wadman, and a fervent wish that I could
take off my body and work in my soul, I mournfully ascended to my
apartment, and Nurse P was reported off duty.

For the benefit of any ardent damsel whose patriotic fancy may
have surrounded hospital life with a halo of charms, I will
briefly describe the bower to which I retired, in a somewhat
ruinous condition. It was well ventilated, for five panes of
glass had suffered compound fractures, which all the surgeons and
nurses had failed to heal; the two windows were draped with
sheets, the church hospital opposite being a brick and mortar
Argus, and the female mind cherishing a