To our darkness you’re a lamp,
Helen Gould.
Thoughts of home and gentle things,
Helen Gould,
To the camp your coming brings;
All the place with music rings
At the rustle of your wings,
Helen Gould.
“OUR HELEN”
On the day of the Dewey parade in New York, Miss Gould was in front of her house, on a platform she had erected for the small children of certain Asylums. Mayor Van Wyck told Admiral Dewey who she was, and the Admiral stood up in his carriage and bowed to her three times. Then the word went down the line that Miss Gould was there, and every company saluted her as it passed.