LIEUTENANT STANWOOD
Surgeon William O’Maugher, of the 69th New York Infantry, late coroner of New York City, a jolly Irish gentleman, and Lieutenant Stanwood, of Maine, with their wit and jolly talk were a great help to us, when we sometimes actually staggered to our tents, completely discouraged and exhausted. It was impossible to help all the sick “Boys,” who were happy if we could give them only a pleasant word of cheer in passing. We frequently sat on the rough seats, leaning wearily on the plank tables supported on empty barrels; but their Yankee and Irish jokes, after a good meal, soon raised our spirits and we were ready to start again on the endless round among the sick.
One day at dinner, when I was particularly depressed, Doctor O’Maugher began with an extra brogue—“Yees all think a deal of Miss Smith, don’t yees?”
“Well, I guess we do,” said Lieutenant Stanwood, “and no one had better say anything against her.”
“Well, if yees knew what I know about her y’d change yer mind.” I was too tired to raise my head, and he went on: “Yees know about that Guffin boy she tuk care of? Well, she saved his life to be sure, but if ye knew the rist of it.”
At last I said, “What’s the matter with you, O’Maugher?”
“Well,” he went on, “do ye know whin I wanted to put a fly blisther on the back of the boy’s head, she wouldn’t allow it, and for why do ye think? Well, she said it would spoil his looks for a corpse.” This of course was followed with a shout of laughter which happily relaxed the tension of fatigue, and gave us courage to go on.
One morning when Doctor O’Maugher came to his “mess” he looked a picture of misery. “Why, Doctor, what’s the matter?”
“Oh, it’s a poor miserable cuss of a biped I am onyway.”