"I have found them," I answered, "more satisfactorily conducted than I anticipated, with but one exception." "Have you visited the Jackson?" "I have just come from there." "To-day is not the visiting day. Did you see Surgeon Powers?" "I did." "Did you get into that hospital without trouble?" "We had a parley." "What did he say to you?" I gave his objection and my reply in a low tone. To my annoyance, the doctor repeated it in a loud voice, and continued: "You certainly could have given no better reason than that every soldier is some mother's son. What do you think of Surgeon Powers?" I hesitated in view of all these officers; but my second thought was, no matter whether the President himself were present; and I frankly replied: "I think he is a tyrant brandy-cask. Why do you allow such a man to occupy the responsible position of surgeon in charge of hundreds of the sick and wounded soldiers?" "We tried once to get him out, and failed. You ought to see the medical director, who is in the city." He gave me the location of the hospitals I desired, and I left. Remembering the promise I made my son Joseph, I returned to head-quarters, and spent the balance of the day in writing for soldiers and for myself. The following morning I resumed hospital visiting. On the street I met an officer, who reached his hand with a smile, saying, "You do not recognize me, but I recognize you as being the lady in Dr. Warrener's office yesterday, after visiting the Jackson Hospital." "I do not know but you thought me severe in my remarks concerning Surgeon Powers." "Not at all--not by any means, for I had two sons under him six weeks, and they both declared they would rather die in the open field than be under the care of that drunken tyrant again." "Why do you permit such a surgeon to have the care of the sick, wounded, and dying soldiers?" "Well, it is difficult for us to do much with each other, but there is the medical director just ahead of us; you ought to see him; I'll introduce you. He is very much of a gentleman." The first query of the medical director, after reading my papers, was "Have you visited the Jackson Hospital? And did you see Surgeon Powers?" "I undertook to visit it yesterday," I said, "but was hurried through in such haste, by Surgeon Powers, that I could not speak to any of the soldiers, or stop to write for them to their home friends, if they desired." "What do you think of Surgeon Powers?" "I think he is an unfeeling tyrant. The white of his eyes had the color of red flannel, and the unmistakable brandy breath made standing near him very unpleasant. Besides, his ungentlemanly, morose treatment of helpless soldiers indicates his entire unfitness for the position he occupies. If the milk of human kindness is more loudly called for in one position than another, it is in the surgeon in charge of sick, wounded, and dying soldiers."