In all the railroad towns, hospitals and wayside houses were established for the benefit of the travelling soldier. These were maintained and managed almost exclusively by the women. They prepared as best they could such articles as pickles and preserves and other delicacies for the use of the hospitals. They sent testaments and other good books and good preachers to the army, and being nearly all women of practical piety, they helped greatly to infuse that spirit of patriotism which gave such strength to the Confederate army. The world has never known an army in which there were so many earnest, practical Christians like Jackson, Cobb, Lee, Polk, Price, and Gordon among the commanding officers, where there were so many ministers of the gospel of good standing who were fighting soldiers, and so many men in ranks who were God-fearing men. The world has never known an army where so many officers and soldiers came from homes where there were pious wives, mothers, and sisters. The inspiration of the knightly hearts of the Confederacy was home and the inspiration of a pious home was godly woman. The world will never know how effective were the prayers and letters of the women at home in those great religious revivals with which the Confederate army was so often and so richly blessed. Thousands of men who entered the army wicked men went home or to their graves genuine Christians. The war ended; but the good woman's work never ends. Our Confederate women began immediately to look after the soldiers' orphans and the soldiers' graves. In all directions the Confederate monuments have been erected mainly by their efforts. Soldiers' homes have been established and in some few of the States homes provided for the Confederate widows. It is safe to say that women collected two-thirds of the money raised for all these objects. It is their dead they are honoring. And they will continue to break the alabaster box. Let them alone. THE SOUTHERN WOMAN'S SONG [Confederate Scrap Book.] Stitch, stitch, stitch. Little needle, swiftly fly, Brightly glitter as you go; Every time that you pass by Warms my heart with pity's glow. Dreams of comfort that will cheer, Dreams of courage you will bring, Through winter's cold, the volunteer. Smile on me like flowers in spring. Stitch, stitch, stitch. Swiftly, little needle, fly, Through this flannel, soft and warm; Though with cold the soldiers sigh, This will sure keep out the storm. Set the buttons close and tight, Out to shut the winter's damp; There'll be none to fix them right In the soldier's tented camp. Stitch, stitch, stitch. Ah! needle, do not linger; Close the thread, make fine the knot; There'll be no dainty finger To arrange a seam forgot. Though small and tiny you may be, Do all that you are able. A mouse a lion once set free, As says the pretty fable.