Nor were the aged women lacking in patriotic devotion. Such inscriptions as these were not uncommon. "The fortunate owner of these socks is secretly informed, that they are the one hundred and ninety-first pair knit for our brave boys by Mrs. Abner Bartlett, of Medford, Mass., now aged eighty-five years."
A barrel of hospital clothing sent from Conway, Mass., contained a pair of socks knit by a lady ninety-seven years old, who declared herself ready and anxious to do all she could. A homespun blanket bore the inscription, "This blanket was carried by Milly Aldrich, who is ninety-three years old, down hill and up hill, one and a-half miles, to be given to some soldier."
A box of lint bore this touching record, "Made in a sick-room where the sunlight has not entered for nine years, but where God has entered, and where two sons have bade their mother good-bye, as they have gone out to the war."
Every one knows the preciousness of the household linen which has been for generations an heirloom in a family. Yet in numerous instances, linen sheets, table-cloths, and napkins, from one hundred and twenty to two hundred years old, which no money could have purchased, were dedicated, often by those who had nought else to give, to the service of the hospital.
An instance of generous and self-denying patriotism related by Mrs. D. P. Livermore, of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, deserves a record in this connection, as it was one which has had more than one counterpart elsewhere. "Some two or three months ago, a poor girl, a seamstress, came to our rooms. 'I do not feel right,' she said, 'that I am doing nothing for our soldiers in the hospitals, and have resolved to do something immediately. Which do you prefer—that I should give money, or buy material and manufacture it into garments?'"
"You must be guided by your circumstances," was the answer made her; "we need both money and supplies, and you must do that which is most convenient for you."
"I prefer to give you money, if it will do as much good."
"Very well; then give money, which we need badly, and without which we cannot do what is most necessary for our brave sick men."
"Then I will give you the entire earnings of the next two weeks. I'd give more, but I have to help support my mother who is an invalid. Generally I make but one vest a day, but I will work earlier and later these two weeks." In two weeks she came again, the poor sewing girl, her face radiant with the consciousness of philanthropic intent. Opening her porte-monnaie, she counted out nineteen dollars and thirty-seven cents. Every penny was earned by the slow needle, and she had stitched away into the hours of midnight on every one of the working days of the week. The patriotism which leads to such sacrifices as these, is not less deserving of honor than that which finds scope for its energies in ministering to the wounded on the battle-field or in the crowded wards of a hospital.
Two other offerings inspired by the true spirit of earnest and active philanthropy, related by the same lady, deserve a place here.