Some of the men thus approached belonged to the scholar and gentlemen class, who had never done manual work of any kind, and at first they hesitated. However, they at last decided to undertake the task, and with willing hands and a little training, they turned out to be very satisfactory nurses, faithful and devoted, never shirking the most difficult and repelling work. Every evening a service of prayer and song was held in the central court of the Shelter, where all who were conscious could hear, and we believe that the blessing on that work came in answer to these united prayers, and the public acknowledgment of absolute dependence in God. Here, too, the workers gained new enthusiasm and the strength born of faith and hope. Dr. Wells’ brilliant management deserves the highest praise. The necessity of caring for my little one, lying sick five miles away, allowed me only alternate nights of service at the hospital, so the labor for the other two members of our trio was severe, but while the need lasted strength was given. Unspeakably pathetic were many of the scenes we were forced to witness. One poor woman, only that day widowed, with three little ones to care for, was brought in cold and almost pulseless. We spent the night trying to save this poor mother. Early in the morning her eldest, a dear little fellow of eleven, came to watch with and take care of her. To see the anxious little face (a child’s face in the shadow of a great sorrow is the saddest thing on earth) as he chafed her hands and affirmed, half interrogatively, how much warmer they were now than before, and as he looked eagerly to us, every time we entered saying, “Will she live, will she live?” was enough to make one ready to die for that life. We felt that woman must live. And yet--. After a long contest the pulse revived, the extremities grew warm, nearly all untoward symptoms disappeared, we all dared to hope. “She will live now,” joyfully said the child. “Oh, if I could live, it would be good!” said the now conscious mother. But alas! next day the three little ones were motherless and fatherless, and another sad funeral, with one drooping little mourner, joined the awful procession, which nightly filed through the city gates, and covered the surrounding hills with new-made graves. One poor old father watched and tended his boy of fourteen with agonized devotion. The only one left to his old age of what was a few days before a large family. We all worked over the lad with strong hopes, so young, and many of the old had recovered, so much needed, surely he would be spared, but at length the cold young form grew a little colder, the tired little pulse ceased to flutter, and a broken old man followed his last hope to the grave. And yet we had great cause for devout thankfulness that so many of our patients were spared. Sixty-five per cent of recoveries is almost unheard of, and yet this was our record at the Shelter.