Let us pass down on this side, as we go out of the ward. I want you to look at that man’s eye, it is so full of bright, keen intelligence and quick wit. I wish that we had time to talk with him; but it is such a difficult matter to break off, that, without an abundance of time, I always hesitate to begin. The other morning I happened to enter the ward just as inspection was over; (which, you know, means the time at which the surgeon in charge makes his rounds attended by the surgeons of each ward;) this man beckoned me to his bedside. “He’s a bully man, that head one, ain’t he?” Criticism from the men upon any of the officers of the hospital, be it favorable or unfavorable, is a thing which we strictly discountenance at all times; and I therefore said,--assuming, or, as ---- says, I should always say, _trying_ to assume, an air of dignity-- “You should not speak so of the surgeon in charge, it is disrespectful; you must remember that he is as much your superior officer, for the time, as the colonel of your regiment.” “Faith! then there’s an act of disrespect I’ll never pay my colonel. He’s gone to his account, so we’ll say no more; but not a boy of that regiment will ever----” This I could not permit; so I turned at once to leave him, finding my moral lessons turned against myself, and that “hæc fabula” didn’t “docet” the respect I intended. “Oh! please, miss! don’t go--don’t be offended! I didn’t mean it, indeed; I may be rough, but I mean no offence; I want to tell you why I called him ‘bully;’ just let me, even if you don’t like him.” “It isn’t that I don’t like him,” I endeavored to explain, “but that I think you have no right to criticise those above you. Were I to allow that, I might, on the same principle, allow you to find fault with one of the other officers; I never meant that you should not be grateful for being so well cared for.”