willing to give one of those men a permanent home for his services. The
knowledge that this home is here for them to return to, would ensure
them kind treatment at the hand of the farmer, and I am sure they would
prefer life on a farm, with good palatable food and liberty, to being
shut up here as prisoners and fed as paupers, as we in the ladies' ward
are, without one word or look of sympathy or respect extended to us.

One day this week, I had been watching one of the men working at the
strawberry beds, thinking I would like to live on a farm now, that I
might cultivate those lovely berries. The Doctor came in to make his
usual morning call, in the hall, with a book and pencil in his hand;
that is all he ever does for us. I thought I would make him think I
thought him a gentleman, which he is not, and perhaps he would be more
willing to let me go home. It has taken effect. I suppose he thinks I
have forgotten all the doings of the past winter, and that I will not
dare to say anything against such a mighty man as he is. I am glad I
have taken it down in black and white, so as not to forget the wrongs of
the Province, and the wrongs of those poor neglected women, of whom I am
one. I ought not to write in this manner, but my indignation overcomes
me sometimes, and I cannot help it. He is a little more social now than
usual, and I suggest that if he bring blackberry bushes from the field,
and set them around the fence, keeping the ground irrigated round the
roots, he might have as nice fruit as the cultivated. He said yes, he
would send some of his men out to his farm and get some, and he left as
pleasant as he came. That was the first time he ever left me without
being driven away by my making some request, and being refused.

This reminds me of the day I begged so hard for a pot of Holloway's
Ointment. I had asked my boys several times to bring it to me, and I
thought they always forgot it. I had used it many years, not constantly,