Then nurses have a way of sometimes getting ill, and it always seems to be the nurse whose place it is most difficult to fill; then Matron goes out for the afternoon, saying to the assistant, "There are three extra nurses, and I have sent them to Wards A., B., and C., where they are busy, so no one is likely to ask you for another extra," and as soon as she has gone a house surgeon runs in to say he has sent in a very bad diphtheria case to Ward D. for immediate tracheotomy, and can I send specials over at once? I look on the list to see who the three extras are, and find not one of them is suitable to take on the case--one is going for her holiday in a few days and the other two are quite juniors--so I rack my brain to think which of the ward nurses is most suitable, and fix upon Pro. 1 in Ward A., as she has nursed one or two tracheotomies; so I have to interview Sister A., and she is most reluctant to give up her Pro. 1, and is quite certain Matron would not have taken her away, but I have to be firm and try to console her by sending her the best extra in place of Pro. 1 (thereby incurring black looks from Sister B., who is quite sure her ward is far heavier than Sister A.'s!); some one ought to be sent to bed to be ready to act as night special, but I conclude that can wait till Matron returns, as she may have some nurse she has promised to put on as special. That is the sort of work the assistant matron has to do--a good deal of fagging about and acting as a sort of buffer between the sisters and the Matron, much writing of letters and other work in the office, and a good deal of carving at meal times--one Sunday I carved roast beef for seventy nurses, some of them day nurses and some of them night. I had just come to the end of my time in the office (I was still a lady pupil then), when an appeal came to the Matron to lend two staff nurses to one of the large London Infirmaries, where they had a great many nurses ill. I volunteered to go (as I thought it would be a new experience), and then another lady pupil also volunteered. It was a pouring wet evening in March when we set off in a hansom cab, the other lady pupils rather jeering at us, and saying that when _they_ went to the workhouse they should do the thing correctly in an aged four-wheeler! We had no idea where the Infirmary was, but trusted to the cabby, and after a long drive he turned into a stone-paved yard and drew up at a heavily-barred door; it looked more like a prison than an infirmary, but I got out in the rain to explore, and after a little while I managed to explain to the old man in charge that I did not wish to apply for admission to the Casual Ward, but to find the Infirmary. He told me that was more than a mile farther on; so the weary horse plodded on once more, and eventually brought us to an imposing building, where, in three weeks of hard work, we learnt many things.