As I lay down at night on my iron bedstead, and looked about the little cloth shelter, seeing the evidences of kindness shown to me by them all, I thought how fortunate I was in thus being provided for with comforts, when others were glad of one-half my accommodations.
Never in my life have I been treated with more respect and consideration, than while a nurse in the Volunteer Army. If woman respects herself, men will respect her. Our soldiers were men—some, many of them, the noblest and best in the land, and no woman, whose motives were pure, would have been called to blush in their presence.
In my admiration of the high character of our men as a whole, I thought often and eagerly how, when the war was over, if I had control of the Treasury, I would give good gifts to every returned soldier, when, disabled and war-worn, he should sit down to repose on his laurels.
I thought how comfortable they would be, if amongst a score were divided what a few great men now received to ventilate our Americanism abroad; what happy, cheerful homes I would provide for those whose dear ones fell in the battle's shock, or died of wounds in the hospitals near the field.
