"Martha's Vineyard.

"Dear Auntie Rachel: Tell grandpa, to begin with, that John Storm
preached his first sermon on Wednesday last, and, according to programme,
I was there to hear it. Oh, God bless me! What a time I had of it! He
broke down in the middle, taking stage fright or pulpit fright or some
such devilry, though there was nothing to be afraid of except a
bandboxful of chattering girls who didn't listen, and a few old fogies
with ear-trumpets. I was sitting in the darkness at the back, effectually
concealed from the preacher by the broad shoulders of Ward Sister
Allworthy, who is an example of 'delicate femaleism' just verging on
old-maidenism. They tell me the 'discoorse' was a short one, but I never
got so many prayers into the time in all my born days, and my breath was
coming and going so fast that the Sister must have thought they had set
up a pumping-engine in the pew behind her. Our poor, heavy-laden Mr.
Storm has been here since then with his sad and eager face, but I hadn't
the stuff in me to tell him the truth about the sermon, so I told him I
had forgotten to go and hear it, and may the Lord have mercy on my soul!

"You want to know how I employ my time? Well, lest you should think I
give up my days to dreams and my nights to idleness, I hasten to tell
that I rise at 6, breakfast at 6.30, begin duty at 7, sup at 9.30 P.M.,
gossip till 10, and then go into my room and put myself to bed; and there
I am at the end of it. Being only a probationer, I am chiefly in the
out-patient department, where my duties are to collect the things wanted
at the dispensary, make the patients ready to see the surgeon, and pass
them on to the dressers. My patients at present are the children, and I
love them, and shall break my heart when I have to leave them. They are
not always too well looked after by the surgeon, but that doesn't matter
in the least, because, you see, they are constantly watched by the best