The aged sister has a keen sense of humour, and in describing the departure of Miss Stanley’s company from London Bridge for Scutari, evidently derived some satisfaction that her nun’s garb was less extraordinary than the dresses provided by the Government for its nurses. “The ladies and the paid nurses,” she relates, “wore the same uniform--grey tweed wrappers, worsted jackets, white caps and short woollen cloaks, and a frightful scarf of brown holland embroidered in red with the words ‘Scutari Hospital.’ The garments were contract work and all made the same sizes. In consequence the tall ladies appeared to be attired in short dresses and the short ladies in long.” It was a similar evidence of official blundering to that which sent a cargo of boots for the soldiers in the Crimea all shaped for the left foot. “That ladies could be found to walk in such a costume was certainly a triumph of grace over nature,” adds Sister Aloysius. The fact is interesting as showing the advance made in modern times in a nurse’s official dress as exemplified in the charming though useful costumes worn by military nurses in the South African war. However, all honour to the noble pioneers who sank personal considerations and effaced self in a desire to discharge their errand of mercy. A powerful sidelight is thrown on the work of the Lady-in-Chief by the experiences of her subordinates. Sister Mary Aloysius writes: “Where shall I begin, or how can I ever describe my first day in the hospital at Scutari? Vessels were arriving and orderlies carrying the poor fellows, who with their wounds and frost-bites had been tossing about on the Black Sea for two or three days and sometimes more. Where were they to go? Not an available bed. They were laid on the floor one after another, till the beds were emptied of those dying of cholera and every other disease. Many died immediately after being brought in--their moans would pierce the heart--and the look of agony on those poor dying faces will never leave my heart. They may well be called ‘the martyrs of the Crimea.’ “The cholera was of the very worst type, and the attacked men lasted only four or five hours. Oh, those dreadful cramps! You might as well try to bend a piece of iron as to move the joints. The medical staff did their best, and daily, hourly, risked their own lives with little or no success. At last every one seemed to be getting paralysed and the orderlies indifferent as to life or death.... The usual remedies ordered by the doctors were stuping and poultices of mustard. They were very anxious to try chloroform, but did not trust any one with it except the sisters.”