NURSING A DUTCH CAPTAIN.
THE PROBATIONER’S FALSEHOOD. The brig Gerda was in the harbour discharging her cargo of woods, while her captain lay in the medical wards of the Royal Infirmary. The junior probationers were rejoicing in the thought of having at last “a real bad ca,se” to see to, for it was summer, and the city was too healthy to please the budding nurses, who were longing to try their “ ’prentice hands.” And a handful tho captain was, as he lay in the throes of rheumatic fever, grumbling in Batch, praising in broken English and groaning like any 'other man,; dividing his time, when pain would allow of it, between tho study of his prayer-book and .a photograph of his “dear vife.”
We grew to recognise the former asi the precursor of tho big Dutch grumble we had learned to dread, the latter of his softer moments. For eight long weeks we suffered—l advisedly say we—for never did patient load probationers such a dance, and long ere his convalescence came I for one, baby pro. though I was, felt myself fit to be numbered with the saints.
But our reward came slowly and surely. The grumbling got feebler, the praising increased, while the groaning died completely away, and the poor racked frame lay quiet and feeble and inert, glad only to be allowed to be at peace. And so he gradually returned to health. Then came the day when our interesting patient was to return to his brig and set sailjfor “Goteboro” and “his dear vife," and somehow we all felt sorry, i for, like a troublesome child, he had endeared himself to us, as the sick and helpless have a way of doing. When it came to his good-bye to me, judge of my surprise to find two golden sovereigns being dropped into my apron pocket, “just to buy von leetle present with.” Think of having to refuse such untold wealth, and forgive me a momentary temptation. A youthful probationer, whose income ran only to twelve pounds per annum, who at that moment was reduced to the last halfpenny -stamp, twopence in debt for the last two letters written ! and two-thirds of the quarter) still to run. No money to spend in P ’s tea-rooms, no money for those nightly feasts in the attic bedrooms, where the night superintendent’s footsteps never reach. And yet to have to .‘say, and to feel virtuous in saying it, “Oh ! no, thanks, I cannot accept presents. Besides, I’d 4 , much rather you put it in the charity box” ; adding mentally, “And may the falsehood bo forgiven me !”—The “Nursing Mirror.”
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Western Star, 31 March 1911, Page 4
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438NURSING A DUTCH CAPTAIN. Western Star, 31 March 1911, Page 4
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