"How will I walk about, now?"
Toward her brother, who in a fit of passion had maimed her for life, she seemed to cherish not the slightest resentment; but talked often of him and her baby brother, in the most affectionate terms. Visitors were extremely kind to her, and seemed to vie with each other who could do most for her comfort. On such occasions she would always portion off her toys or cake, saying in her own rich brogue, "This shall be for Tommy; and this, for baby; and this, for me."
It was astonishing how soon she reconciled herself to the idea of the loss she had sustained. No one knew where she picked up the word, but when she accidentally hit her wounded limb, instead of crying, she would say,—
"Oh, Mary! I'm sorry for your poor stump!"
For a few days she suffered much less than before the amputation, and entered into whatever was ludicrous or mirthful, with all her heart.
When the patients were able to be out of bed, there were a few rocking chairs which they could use. One woman who was dropsical claimed one of these for her own exclusive use. Even when she was too tired to remain out of bed, she would remonstrate loudly against its removal.
Ruth, who was now convalescent, had often watched her proceedings with much merriment, and one time when all was quiet, and the night-nurse absent from the room for a moment, she slipped from her bed and removed the chair to quite the other end of the apartment.
The woman awoke with the first ray of light, and soon discovered the loss of her chair. With a shout that roused every one from their slumbers, she called Miss Stiles, who was innocently reposing in it, to bring it back at once.
"I'll know who did this," she exclaimed looking defiantly about. "I'll know it before night!"
When the doctor made his morning call, instead of answering his question as to how she had slept, she gave him a description of the kind of treatment to which she was exposed.