How many weary invalids will thank the Queen of Nurses for granting them the too often condemned cup of tea. “A great deal too much against tea is said by wise people,” she writes. “When you see the natural and almost universal craving in English sick for their ‘tea,’ you cannot but feel that Nature knows what she is about. I should be very glad if any of the abusers of tea would point out what to give to an English patient after a sleepless night, instead of tea. It is the almost universal testimony of English men and women who have undergone great fatigue, such as riding long journeys without stopping, or sitting up for several nights in succession, that they could do it best upon an occasional cup of tea--and nothing else. Let experience, not theory, decide upon this as upon all other things.” Cocoa increases fat, but has no restorative power, and it is “pure mockery to offer it as a substitute for tea--you might,” adds Miss Nightingale, “as well offer patients chestnuts instead of tea.” She gives the warning, however, that too much tea is given to the sick by foolish people, and that as a rule neither tea nor coffee should be given to invalids after five o’clock. The remarks on “Beds and Bedding” are not as relevant now as when they were written in the days of the much be-curtained four-post bedstead and luxurious feather beds. Most people now acknowledge the superiority of the iron bedstead with spring mattress. The bed coverings should be light as well as warm and “a true nurse,” says Miss Nightingale, “always makes her patient’s bed and does not leave it to the housemaid.” She recommends that the bed should always be in the lightest place in the room, and the patient able to see out of window. “A fashionable physician,” she writes, “has been saying that he turns his patients’ faces from the light. Yes, but Nature is stronger than fashionable physicians, and depend upon it, she turns the faces back and _towards_ such light as she can get.” Observation of the sick shows that patients do not turn their faces to the wall. Miss Nightingale, in illustration of the craving of the sick to see out of window, relates a beautiful story of a nurse’s self-sacrifice. A poor man in one of the hospitals was suffering from spinal accident and expressed an intense longing just to have one look out of the window. The nurse, moved with compassion for the poor fellow’s craving, raised him on her back so that he might take his coveted look at the outside world once again. His joy was great, but the effort cost the nurse a long and serious illness.