Among the large number of our best Brooklyn people to volunteer their help and support was our saintly Mrs. Richard Manning, who continued her ministration throughout the long duration of the war, and for many years after gave substantial help to the destitute families of soldiers; and also Mrs. Anna C. Field, chief organizer and president of the Woman’s Club, as well as of the Woman’s Suffragist Association. Both of these clubs celebrated, during the spring of 1909, in the new Brooklyn Academy of Music, the fortieth anniversary of their organization. I believe that, in modern Brooklyn, no other woman has done so much, in her long life of benevolence and charity, as this Mother of Brooklyn Clubs, for the elevation and encouragement of women especially in ethics and literature. [Illustration: MRS. ANNA C. FIELD] Watches of four hours each during the day were assigned to the women, and at night the same number of hours were allotted to men volunteers. Owing to the astonishing liberality of the citizens of Brooklyn, the hospital donations seemed like a great cornucopia overflowing the larders of the improvised kitchen. Tender, motherly care, combined with the best of diet, at once restored many a poor, hungry homesick boy. Most of them recovered and returned to their regiments or were sent home. [Illustration: ALLAN FOOTE] My first patient was a bright, cheerful young man, Allan Foote, of Michigan, who had been dangerously wounded by a shot that passed through the left lung and out at his back. Such wounds were then supposed to be fatal. He was, however, convalescent, and later was discharged. When he returned to his home in Michigan he again enlisted, raised a company, and went out once more to the front as captain. This time he served till the end of the war, when he returned to his native State safe and well. A lady, wishing to say something flattering of him to a visitor, remarked: “Why, he was shot right in his back.” Seeing the boy wince at this innocent imputation, I explained that he had received that shot in the breast while facing the enemy in battle. Among many incidents of his early army life, Allan Foote told me the following: “I shall never forget his expression when my father gave his written consent to my enlistment in the army in April of ’61, as he handed it to me and said, while tears were running down his cheeks, ‘My son, do your duty, die if it must be, but never prove yourself a coward.’ We can hardly imagine at what cost that was given, and it is now a source of much satisfaction to me to know that God in His mercy so guided me while in the service that no action of mine has ever caused a pain to my father’s heart, and when I returned at the close of the war he seemed as proud of my scars as I was.”