'She followed,' continued Mrs. Simmons, resuming her narrative, 'with increasing interest the progress of the grand anti-slavery drama, until that winter which, in defiance of all mathematical measurements, every American knows to be the longest in the annals of his country. With fixed attention she watched every event, every indication. What next would come she could not see, but she felt sure she should have some part in it, whatever it was. At length the signal gun pealed forth, the first shot was fired, the spell was broken. She wrote me, 'America calls her sons and daughters. Up! up! to work! all true-hearted men and women! live for me, die for me, and your reward shall be everlasting. There is a work for all, for all who love freedom, for all who love democracy, for all who love humanity, for all who love right law, union, and peace.'

'She felt that all her life had been preparing for this moment. Averse to war as she was from instinct and principle, she yet believed it necessary in the progress of the world, and her clear eyes scattered all the sophisms which made both sides partly wrong and partly right. She looked only at essential principles, and she saw that on one side was God, and in the current of His good will to men they were fighting; on the other was Satan, and by whatever plausible arguments he might deceive some, he could never do aught but cause and perpetuate evil. Her mind was quickly made up, and she asked me in her letter what steps she should take. I sent for her to come to me, and we applied to a committee to receive her as nurse. A great many questions were asked her, and then her application was accepted; but she was kept waiting for the final answer more than a week. Fast as heads and hearts and hands moved in those days, still time could not be annihilated—it must have its place in every work. I was present when her case was discussed.

''I think she is an enthusiast,' said one; 'I am sure she will not do.'

''We are all enthusiasts now,' answered another; 'that does not make any difference.'

''I don't believe she is,' exclaimed a pretty young woman; 'behind such a face there can be only a very matter-of-fact mind.'

'A tall, cold-looking lady said: 'No, she is a devotee; I know it by her manner. We do not want such persons.'

''I do not think we can afford to lose her services,' interrupted another, who had been looking over a pile of papers. 'Listen to her testimonials. Here is one from Dr. Weston, another from the Rev. Mr. Samuels, and others. Listen, she is just the one we want.'

All listened, and when Laetitia came, after another flood of questions, her credentials were given her. During this delay, though she was, like all the rest of us, at white heat regarding her country, she was entirely quiet about herself. I asked her what she would do if she were not accepted. 'I shall go,' said she, 'whatever obstacles are thrown in the way.' She started very soon for the seat of war. I came here with her to see that she had everything she needed, and you know the rest better than I do.'

Yes, I knew the rest, for I had been with her ever since.

Though a resident of Washington, I was not 'to the manor born,' but a 'mudsill' from Vermont, and when the war broke out I applied to be received into the hospitals, but was refused on account of want of experience. Intent, notwithstanding, upon making my services necessary, I passed part of every day in one or other of them. One day I noticed a new comer. Her head was bent down as I approached her; but when I passed, she looked up for a moment, and I had a glimpse of her face. 'That is the homeliest face I ever saw,' said I to myself. It will be a perpetual annoyance to me. I am sorry she has come.' The next day I was again in that hospital, and, standing near a door which opened into a side room, I overheard a conversation going on between a surgeon and a lady. It was not of a private nature, and I kept my place and listened to it. I was charmed by the agreeable tones of the lady, her well-chosen words, and the great good sense and tender kindness of her remarks. 'I must know that woman,' said I, 'she will be a treasure if she is going to stay here.' She came out, and I recognized the homely nurse of the previous day. I was astonished, but my prejudice was entirely disarmed. I soon made her acquaintance, and gradually established myself as her assistant, until, at her request, I was allowed to take up my abode in the building.