This idea proved to be quite amusing, and before I had secured that bandage, the men seemed to have forgotten their wounds, except as a source of future pride, and were firing jokes at each other as rapidly as they had done bullets at the enemy. When, therefore, I proposed sticking pins into any one else who desired such punishment, there was quite a demand for my services, and with my basin of tepid water I started to wet the hard, dry dressings, and leave them to soften before being removed. Before night I discovered that lint is an instrument of incalculable torture, and should never be used, as either blood or pus quickly converts some portion of it into splints, as irritating as a pine shaving. CHAPTER LIII. HOSPITAL GANGRENE. About nine o'clock I returned to the man I had come to help, and found that he still slept. I hoped he might rouse and have some further message for his wife, before death had finished his work, and so remained with him, although I was much needed in the "very bad ward." I had sat by him but a few moments when I noticed a green shade on his face. It darkened, and his breathing grew labored--then ceased. I think it was not more than twenty minutes from the time I observed the green tinge until he was gone. I called the nurse, who brought the large man I had seen at the door of the bad ward, and now I knew he was a surgeon, knew also, by the sudden shadow on his face when he saw the corpse, that he was alarmed; and when he had given minute directions for the removal of the bed and its contents, the washing of the floor and sprinkling with chloride of lime, I went close to his side, and said in a low voice: "Doctor, is not this hospital gangrene?" He looked down at me, seemed to take my measure, and answered: "I am very sorry to say, madam, that it is." "Then you want lemons!" "We would be glad to have them!" "Glad to have them?" I repeated, in profound astonishment, "why, you _must_ have them!" He seemed surprised at my earnestness, and set about explaining: "We sent to the Sanitary Commission last week, and got half a box." "Sanitary Commission, and half a box of lemons? How many wounded have you?" "Seven hundred and fifty." "Seven hundred and fifty wounded men! Hospital gangrene, and half a box of lemons!" "Well, that was all we could get; Government provides none; but our Chaplain is from Boston--his wife has written to friends there and expects a box next week!" "To Boston for a box of lemons!" I went to the head nurse whom I had scolded in the morning, who now gave me writing materials, and I wrote a short note to the _New York Tribune_: "Hospital gangrene has broken out in Washington, and we want lemons! _lemons!_ LEMONS! ~LEMONS!~ No man or woman in health, has a right to a glass of lemonade until these men have all they need; send us lemons!"