RE-DRESS REQUIRED.
[A writer in the Lancet draws attention to the fact that the regular hospital nurse's uniform is now worn as ordinary ladies' attire.]
There's no doubt my new costume is very becoming. I like the idea or the cape, and the apron is just perfect, while the little bonnet suits me to a T. Met cousin Fred, who said it was "fetching," and that "they wanted some of my sort at the hospitals." I said I thought the patients had good enough nurses at present; he replied "he didn't mean the patients—he meant the doctors." Of course I couldn't stand the drudgery of a nurse's life; but that's no reason why I shouldn't appropriate the uniform, is it?
Walking down street. Met another nurse—a real one, I suppose. She stared, turned red, and then looked horribly offended. I believe she must have made some sign to me that I didn't understand. Are Nurses Freemasons, I wonder? Quite a secret society, it seems. Really that sort of thing oughtn't to be allowed. It makes things so awkward for the impost—the imitators, I mean.
Just got home after dreadful incident! I was in a Bayswater Square, when suddenly a man driving round a corner in a cart got upset, and was pitched on to the road close to me. A small crowd gathered immediately, and evidently expected me to help. One man shouted "Hi! Come and bind up his head, Miss!" And his head was actually bleeding! I couldn't do anything, except feel awfully inclined to faint, and then the mob began to hiss and jeer! Somebody said I must know how to render "first aid to the injured," and if I didn't come quick the man would bleed to death. I was so frightened I ran away, and the mob ran after me, and I had to take shelter in a shop, and ask the shopman to explain to the crowd that I was not really a nurse at all. Then they used dreadful expressions, and I had to be got out by a back way. I don't think the costume is half as becoming as it seemed this morning; I'm going to sell it as a "cast-off garment." Lucky for me it wasn't a torn-off garment!