The Red Cross in Peace and War - Clara Barton

Whilst food for the nourishment of these thousands of human bodies was of the first and highest importance, it was followed so closely by the necessity of something to cover them, that the two seemed well nigh inseparable; and while our men stood over the boxes of meats and the bags of grain, by the carload and the trainload, it was no less imperative, that some one stand by the boxes and barrels of clothing sent from, everywhere—sent by the great, warm, pitying hearts of our blessed, generous countrywomen, from the church, with its towering steeple and the soft-toned bell that calls to prayer, the blazing bazaar, with its galaxies of beauty, animate and inanimate, the dimly lighted, one little room of the woman who has toiled out all day and returns weary and heavy laden to the waiting family of little ones, who, in the midst of their own hard life and the need of much, still bless God for a fate better than those they hear of—from all of these alike come the gifts of Dorcas. In tons they come, and some one must, “stand and deliver,” as hour by hour goes out the appeal: “Closen marm—please give me some closen. I’s lost all I had!” How literally true this was may be judged by the fact that here as at Johnstown, there were those who came out of that terrific strife for life with no thread left on the body but the shirt band about the neck, which a strong, well-sewed button had served to hold.

SICK WITH THE FAMINE FEVER.

HUNGER STRICKEN.