During the war the Queen also started a Home for Nursing Sisters at her own expense. She began with two sisters, of whom she sent one to the Deaconesses of Bethany at Berlin to be taught. The Deaconesses of Bucharest wear a dark grey costume, with a white veil and apron, which are picturesquely arranged. A black cross on a lilac ribbon is worn round the neck. “Now there are more than twenty of them at Bucharest, and they increase in numbers, and are much thought of. Many of them lately passed their examinations, and received certificates for practising simple surgery. They nurse in hospitals and private houses for five francs a day, and are often sent for in the town. The rich often give more than is asked, which enables the sisters to visit the poor free of charge, and to bring them food and medicine. Now five thousand francs have been voted for the School of Embroidery, and twenty thousand for the Home for the Sisters. We hope to build a house of our own with our savings, with a little hospital beside it, and to have something over for aged and infirm sisters. I shall add to this a School for Monthly Nurses, as so many women die in their confinement.” Queen Elizabeth belongs to those highly favoured ladies who, though surrounded by the pomp and state of royalty, can sympathise with the sorrows of the poor and suffering, and combine with this a lofty ideal of the intellectual duties of life. The Queen does not weary of helping where help is required. None appeal to her in vain if they are really in need. Where poverty is to be relieved, or cares to be lightened, the Queen’s practical mind ever finds the right means and the best manner of doing it. Her constant endeavour is to promote the cultivation and industry of the country, and to awake a feeling of self-confidence in the nation. To work for others is the source of her own happiness. The following poem will show how anxious the Queen is to fulfil her duties towards the country. THE PEOPLE’S MOTHER. “If millions call thee their mother, and borrow Of thee some comfort in grief and care, E’en though thou too hast known pain and sorrow, Yet never, never must thou despair. Thou must stand firm and thy heart must fail not, While breakers roar through the tempest wild, Calm words of faith on thy lips, that pale not, And on thy forehead hope’s radiance mild. Thou must behold, with a gaze undaunted, The dark abyss, that no mists conceal, Thy head upraised, thy foot firmly planted, Thy hand aye open to help and heal. All thoughts of self must be banished ever, Thy people’s life must thine own life be. The voice of passion--oh! heed it never, Thou may’st lead millions to rise with thee. If anguish conquer, or sin enslave them, If poor and lowly or nobly born-- All are thy children, forgive and save them, The sick, the sinful, the weak and worn.