the warm heart of a rose, where he sunned himself all day. The
Commodore was made happy in a tub of water, grass, and stones, and Mr.
Fuzz was put in a well-ventilated glass box to decide whether he would
be a cocoon or not.

Tony had not been idle while his mistress was away, and he showed her
the hospital garden he had made close by, in which were cabbage,
nettle, and mignonette plants for the butterflies, flowering herbs for
the bees, chick-weed and hemp for the birds, catnip for the pussies,
and plenty of room left for whatever other patients might need. In the
afternoon, while Nelly did her task at lint-picking, talking busily to
Will as she worked, and interesting him in her affairs, Tony cleared a
pretty spot in the grove for the burying-ground, and made ready some
small bits of slate on which to write the names of those who died. He
did not have it ready an hour too soon, for at sunset two little
graves were needed, and Nurse Nelly shed tender tears for her first
losses as she laid the motherless mice in one smooth hollow, and the
gray-coated rebel in the other. She had learned to care for him
already, and when she found him dead, was very glad she had been kind
to him, hoping that he knew it, and died happier in her hospital than
all alone in the shadowy wood.

The rest of Nelly's patients prospered, and of the many added
afterward few died, because of Tony's skilful treatment and her own
faithful care. Every morning when the day proved fair the little
ambulance went out upon its charitable errand; every afternoon Nelly
worked for the human sufferers whom she loved; and every evening
brother Will read aloud to her from useful books, showed her wonders
with his microscope, or prescribed remedies for the patients, whom he
soon knew by name and took much interest in. It was Nelly's holiday;