As “fame comes only when deserved,” would you know Clara Barton? Follow her into countless permanent and improvised hospitals, over nineteen battlefields of the Civil War,—from Cedar Mountain in ’62 through the Richmond Campaign in ’65; and I beg of you not to forget that twenty-mile ride on one night in June, ’64, as on to Petersburg astride her black horse in the darkness, in a rain storm amidst thunder and lightning that “lonesomest-lone-woman” goes on her mission to the relief of the thousands of victims of an explosion. Follow her into the malarial climate through the “Campaign before Charleston,” water deadly in character, on the barren sands under a tropic sun, sand granules transforming brown eyes to eyes swollen and bloodshot, feet calloused and blistered, where again she is seen under the fire of death-dealing guns, serving the whites and blacks alike. Follow her through nineteen national disasters,—from the Michigan forest fires in ’81 to the typhoid fever epidemic in Butler, Pa., in 1904. Follow her as she accepts the commission at the hands of President Lincoln and through the long, mournful months, searches the records, and walks the cemetery in the southland to identify the graves of the missing soldiers. Follow her over four of the great battlefields of the Franco-Prussian War; and then on the public highway as she walks into the city of stricken Paris. Follow her again through numerous hospitals and on American relief fields. Follow her as on the relief ship State of Texas, to the strains of “My Country ’Tis of Thee” she leads the American navy into the torpedo-mined Bay of Santiago, and from Santiago into the war-stricken fields and the yellow fever camps of Cuba. Follow her as President of the American Red Cross through a score of national calamities and as President of the First Aid Association in untiring service. Follow her into an American audience where she receives the official greetings of Japan for her services in securing adhesion of the Japanese government to the Red Cross International Treaty. Follow her, as the official representative of our American nation, on four trips across the Atlantic, thence into the halls of world conference where not hate but love rules. Follow through half a century the woman whose deeds of love are as lighted candles for vestal virgins to keep burning on the altar in the Temple of Fame. Of America’s heroine, Will Carleton sings: A million thanks to one Who hath a million plaudits won For deeds of love to many millions done.