Cecilia Findlay.
“People say that I must have been born brave,” said Clara Barton. “Why, I seem to remember nothing but terrors in my early days, I was a shrinking little bundle of fears, fears of thunder, fears of strange faces, fears of my strange self.”
Mary R. Parkman—In Heroines of Service.
Fear loves the idea of danger. S. Croxall.
The moment my fear begins, I cease to fear. Schiller.
The weak most fear, the timid tremble, but the brave and stout of heart will work and hope and trust. Clara Barton.
YOU’RE RIGHT, MADAM—GOOD DAY
Immediately following the Battle of Fredericksburg, every house in the city became a hospital. Among the thousands of wounded Clara Barton, in her usual unobtrusive manner, passed in and out of the houses, first on one side of the street then on the other, on her mission of mercy. Provost Marshal General Patrick seeing her alone among the soldiers mistook her for a resident driven from her home.
The general did not seem to know that any good woman is safe among men, brave and true, and nowhere else more so than among soldiers. He did not fully appreciate that when a woman is true to herself
So dear to heav’n is saintly chastity,