acquainted with that gentleman and his kind heart, so I bid Mrs. Rice to keep quiet but dress the baby (it was then three months old) in its little white fur jacket and cap, and bring it with her before the officers, and promising that I would meet her there also. On my way I met the Doctor of the Regiment, a very kind-hearted gentleman who, on seeing me, enquired what mischief I had done. I told him of our trouble, and begged of him to intercede for the poor baby, if possible, and, as he was well aware that the health of Mrs. Rice was so much improved by nursing the infant, he thought he would be able to help us. Mrs. Rice entered the room, the infant in her arms, the Doctor and myself following. The colonel, on seeing such a procession enter, could not help smiling, and as the Doctor with all his eloquence stated our case and of the necessity for Mrs. Rice’s health to nurse the baby, and the danger to the little baby’s life in changing its nurse, the Colonel, as a father, and a true-hearted gentleman, gave not only consent for the baby to stay in barracks, but ordered other quarters to be given to Rice and his wife,--a whole room to themselves, where the baby could not annoy anybody. But my story is growing too long, I will hasten to end it. The new quarters into which Mrs. Rice moved were near the rooms occupied by the armor sergeant and his wife who had been long in service, and had saved quite a little fortune, but children they had none. Both became soon so attached to their little neighbor that they offered quite a sum of money to Madame Flora if she would give the child over to them for adoption. I used all influence in my power to persuade Madame Flora to give the child up, to which she at last consented. I felt a heavy burden lifted off my heart and conscience when the papers were lawfully made out which gave the dear little baby into the hands of good Christian people. Now the child had full rights to live in barracks, but its adopted father’s time was in, and he retired with a good pension which, along with his savings, enabled him to buy a house and garden in New London, where the baby has grown up into a fine young woman, not knowing to this day that her dear father and mother are not her natural parents. Madame Flora has retired from her life of shame, trying to bring up her younger sisters in the path of virtue. One of the young girls who had summoned me on that eventful night in such haste has also reformed, and is living with a family as helpful servant a good many years, and she has often told me that the events of that night were the first cause to her for reflection. The other inmate of the house whom I mentioned, who was so cruel and disgusting, fell lower and lower,--nothing could we do for her--she would listen to nothing, and a sudden death ended her life of shame.