HOSPITAL SKETCHES BY L. M. ALCOTT "Which, naming no names, no offense could be took."—Sairy Gamp Boston: James Redpath, Publisher, 221 Washington Street. 1863. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by James Redpath, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts These sketches are respectfully dedicated to her friend Miss Hannah Stevenson, by L. M. A. Publisher's Advertisement. A considerable portion of this volume was published in successive numbers of The Commonwealth, newspaper, of Boston. The sudden popularity the Sketches won from the general public, and the praise they received from literary men of distinguished ability, are sufficient reasons,--were any needed,--for their re-publication, thus revised and enlarged, in this more convenient and permanent form. As, besides paying the Author the usual copyright, the publisher has resolved to devote at least five cents of every copy sold to the support of orphans made fatherless or homeless by the war, no reproduction of any part of the contents now first printed in these pages, will be permitted in any journal. Should the sale of the little book be large, the orphans' percentage will be doubled. Boston, August, 1863. Contents Chapter Chapter Title Page I. Obtaining Supplies 9 II. A Forward Movement 21 III. A Day 31 IV. A Night 46 V. Off Duty 66 VI. A Postscript 86 CHAPTER I OBTAINING SUPPLIES. "I want something to do." This remark being addressed to the world in general, no one in particular felt it their duty to reply; so I repeated it to the smaller world about me, received the following suggestions, and settled the matter by answering my own inquiry, as people are apt to do when very much in earnest. "Write a book," quoth the author of my being. "Don't know enough, sir. First live, then write." "Try teaching again," suggested my mother. "No thank you, ma'am, ten years of that is enough." "Take a husband like my Darby, and fulfill your mission," said sister Joan, home on a visit. "Can't afford expensive luxuries, Mrs. Coobiddy." "Turn actress, and immortalize your name," said sister Vashti, striking an attitude. "I won't." "Go nurse the soldiers," said my young brother, Tom, panting for "the tented field." "I will!"