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18
THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON.
But nature smiles, let man desolate as he will; her kindly hand begins with every recurring spring-time the work of renovation. The grass grows ranker where some heart spilled its life blood, and where some soldier's bones lie mouldering beneath, the grain grows heavy in its unripened richness, bending its tassels to the very ground. O! doth it not strive to hide with its tangled beauty the devastation which man's hand hath wrought?
