somewhere in Carnival time. Coming to less noticeable parts of
the city, my companion fell silent, and I meditated upon the
perfection which Art had attained in America--having just passed a
bronze statue of some hero, who looked like a black Methodist
minister, in a cocked hat, above the waist, and a tipsy squire
below; while his horse stood like an opera dancer, on one leg, in
a high, but somewhat remarkable wind, which blew his mane one way
and his massive tail the other.

"Hurly-burly House, ma'am!" called a voice, startling me from my
reverie, as we stopped before a great pile of buildings, with a
flag flying before it, sentinels at the door, and a very trying
quantity of men lounging about. My heart beat rather faster than
usual, and it suddenly struck me that I was very far from home;
but I descended with dignity, wondering whether I should be
stopped for want of a countersign, and forced to pass the night
in the street. Marching boldly up the steps, I found that no form
was necessary, for the men fell back, the guard touched their
caps, a boy opened the door, and, as it closed behind me, I felt
that I was fairly started, and Nurse Periwinkle's Mission was
begun.



CHAPTER III: A DAY.

"They've come! they've come! hurry up, ladies--you're wanted."

"Who have come? the rebels?"