Before strangers, or before brother officers, Tim was always respectful to us. He was a trained soldier, and, when occasion demanded, could be, and was, very regimental. But in the privacy of our home (of which he was in charge) Tim treated us like children whose pranks might be tolerated but must not be encouraged. "What’s the trouble, Tim?" I enquired sleepily. "It’s time to git up," he complained. "D’ye s’pose ye’re goin’ t’ sleep all day, jes’ because ye loss ye’re beauty sleep las’ night? Dis is war—dis is!" "What’s the hour?" I asked. "It’s ten o’clock," he replied, "an’ dat Cap’ Reggy’s in de nex’ room—chloroformed agin; wit his knees drawed up an’ his mout’ open ventilatin’ his brain. Dey ain’t a Pullman in de whole worl’ dat’s as good a sleeper as dat gent." By this time I was fully awake, as Tim intended I should be. I turned over on my side and addressed him: "Run downstairs now, Tim, and make me a good hot cup of coffee, and a slice of toast with fried mushrooms on top." Tim stared at me a moment in open-mouthed amazement. We weren’t supposed to eat at the villa, but Tim was a good cook and those he favoured with his "friendship" might coax a cup of tea before rising. "Fried mushrooms," he repeated, as he went toward the door, shaking his head slowly from side to side. "Fried—mush—rooms! Gees, an’ dey calls dis _active_ service!" But in spite of this show of pessimism, he returned shortly with the breakfast as ordered. When we reached the hospital that morning everything was as neat and clean as though nothing had happened the night before. No adequate description can be given of the trained nurse at the front. She is one of the marvels of the war. Patient, industrious, cheerful, self-sacrificing and brave, she has robbed war of much of its horrors. She has made the wounded soldier feel that a sister’s care, a mother’s love and a clever woman’s skill follow him wherever he goes. Her smile has cheered his lagging day; her gentle touch has soothed his pain and the warm sympathy of her kindly heart has made the foreign land a home. Under stress of work and nervous strain, ever forgetful of self, always thoughtful for others, no truer or nobler band of gentle women ever left the shores of Canada.