General Hospital, London,
December 1899.

I seem to have been wasting a lot of time this year in being seedy in one way or another, so I don't think that I have much of interest to write to you about, and now that the war in South Africa is making us all excited (as every one feels as if he ought to lend a hand), it is difficult to think of the trifles that have been filling up our lives for the last few months.

After I wrote to you last, we had in yet another cut-throat who proved to be a lunatic, and he gave us a very lively time before we got him well enough to despatch to an asylum. One day he jumped out of bed in a great hurry (as he was very fond of doing if the policeman in charge took his eye off him for a minute), so the man in the next bed called out "Halloa, mate, where are you off to?" to which he replied, "I've got a second-class pass for heaven, so I'm off," and it took some persuasion before he would believe that the train for that destination was not due yet. Another night he proposed to the night nurse, as he thought they might get on well in "the fried fish line" together! It is strange how nervous men are with any one a little bit "off": even some of these big policemen always call out for us to come if a man gets restless. I am not a bit afraid of them, and can generally get them to do what I want with a little chaff; but I am heartily tired of having cut-throats in the ward: I seem to have had so many of them at one time or another, and they are a great anxiety.

We had so many accidents in from the railway station near by last winter that the Superintendent very kindly told me (as one of the accident sisters) I might have a free pass any week-end that I liked to apply for it to any station on their line; so I had a very good time going to visit friends and relations at the seaside when I was able to get away from Saturday to Monday; and they were first-class passes too, so that one could go by the fastest trains.

One evening in May I found that a lad, who had been brought in with a broken leg, was peeling nicely all over, and we extracted a history that might have meant a slight attack of scarlet fever, but it was so indefinite that the house surgeon did not believe it, and did not have him moved at once; and two days later another small boy developed scarlet fever, and then one of the nurses, and they began to talk about closing the ward; then one day I had a raging headache, but did not think anything of it, but when I went to bed (much to my disgust) I found I had a brilliant rash; and the next day the doctor came along and agreed in my diagnosis of scarlet fever, and offered to isolate me there or send me to the London Fever Hospital (paying), but I thought I would just as soon sample an ordinary M. A. B. Hospital, so I took my departure in state in the fever ambulance, with a crowd of friends to see me off—from a safe distance—at the door.

They made me very comfortable at the Fever Hospital, but I felt rather a fraud, as I had the fever so very mildly that I was never ill at all: no sore throat and no temperature after the first two days—in fact I think they doubted whether I had ever had it at all, and it was very slow work waiting to peel. Having at last accomplished this process, I went back to the Hospital to clear up my rooms, as a larger ward was going to be vacant soon, and Matron wanted me to have it after I had taken a holiday.

So I had a good time at home in the best of the summer weather, and paid a few visits, going down to the Isle of Wight and having some splendid bathing and boating there; but it is strange how it takes it out of one having scarlet fever, even when you have it as ridiculously mildly as I did, and I had a good deal of trouble with swollen feet and other forms of feebleness.

In July I attended a very pleasant function at Marlborough House, when the Princess of Wales presented me with my certificate of membership of the Royal National Pension Fund for Nurses, and I met many old friends amongst the one thousand odd nurses who were there.

It was a scorching hot day, and there were some active non-commissioned officers of the Scots Guards who had their work cut out in marshalling the crowd of nurses for their march past; and we found it warm work standing in the sun, as we were wearing indoor uniform, and our caps were not much protection; but as soon as that was over we found plenty of shade under the beautiful trees, and were provided with ices and delicious plates of fruit and other refreshments.

I knew a member of the household, and she very kindly took me round some of the royal apartments, and it was interesting to peep into the cool dining-room, with the lunch ready laid for the royalties to partake of as soon as they had dismissed us, but they stayed chatting with some of the nurses for some time, and altogether we spent a very pleasant time there.

As I was travelling home afterwards in an express train we were suddenly pulled up with a tremendous jerk that threw us and our baggage about the carriage, and when we had picked ourselves up and could look out of the window, we discovered that our carriage was on fire. Fortunately a signalman had noticed it, and telegraphed to the next signal-box to stop the train; we all had to bundle out at a country siding, and the carriage was taken off to be attended to by the men there, while we and our baggage were packed into the rest of the train—which already seemed quite full—and then we hurried on again; but if the signalman had not noticed it, it might have been very unpleasant for us.

I went back to work early in August, and when I got to the Hospital the doctor who generally looks after me was away. It never struck me that I needed to see a doctor, and the Matron did not think to suggest it, so I took over my new ward and began to get things into shape and to my liking. It seemed to me that it was very hard work, but I just put it down to the fact that the weather was very hot, and that I had been slacking for so long; and I thought I must pull myself together; but in about a fortnight the doctor returned, and next day he came to see me and said I was not fit for work yet; so, much to my disgust, I was bundled off for more rest.

Towards the end of September I again got into harness, worked for about a fortnight, and then knocked up with acute neuritis in my head, with herpes, &c. I was cross, but the pain in my head was too bad for me to worry about anything else. I was warded in a medical ward, given big doses of morphia at pretty frequent intervals, and generally fussed over, as I had the honour of being a "very interesting and unusual case." When my head got better the pain started down my legs—sciatica—so they kept me in bed for some time, and when I got up I was rather a wreck, and they said I must go south; so once more I went off to stay with some relations near Southampton, and it was the middle of November before I eventually got back to work. Just fancy having to take from May to November to get over scarlet fever and its effects, especially when the fever lasted only about a couple of days. Of course every one who came to see me after I got back, wanted to know how long I had been at work, as they supposed I should be sent off duty for something else before I had worked a fortnight!

While I was down near Southampton, I went once or twice to the docks to see the first troops going off to South Africa. The men looked very fit and trim in their new khaki suits, but they were very tight packed on the troopships and liners. One day I saw the Kildonan Castle off with 2400 men on board; crowds of people to see them off, and such cheering and singing of "Auld Lang Syne" and "God Save the Queen." Some of them looked such boys to go out and rough it at the front, and it is sad to think that they can't all come back—one wonders how many?

I wish I could go too. Opinions seem divided as to whether the war will soon be over or not.