man I wished to see lodged, she thought, on the top floor. Upon my arrival I knocked for some time at the doors of the front chambers, but no one answered. Then I tried the back hall-room. 'Who's there?' a man's voice roughly demanded. I want to speak with you,' I answered. Well, who are you?' I said that I would explain my business, if he would open the door, and, after a few moments, it was opened just a few inches. The face of a little, weazened old man appeared. What do you want?' he demanded, scowlingly. I heard there was an invalid here, and I want to try and do something for him.' 'Well, he doesn't want anything.' 'But,' I persisted, 'can't I see him for a moment?' 'No, you can't.' He would have slammed the door in my face, but I had caught sight of the poor fellow, his son, who was crouched in one corner. I beckoned to him, and he unwillingly came toward the door in time to prevent its being closed. 'Don't you like beef-tea?' I asked. No, I don't,' he returned. But I have some here that you will like. I'm sure it's different from what you've seen. Let me make some for you. You needn't take it, if you don't like it. I don't know,' he said. 'I might.' And, despite the scowls of the father, who was opposed to my entrance, I sat down by the stove, gathered some pieces of wood from a pile in the corner, and made a fire warm enough to heat the beef-tea. The young man was in the last stages of consumption, and said he had not eaten anything for some time, though I saw some bits of dry bread and pork upon an adjoining shelf. He had no sooner tasted the tea I made for him than he smacked his lips with evident surprise and pleasure, and declared it very good. It seemed to warm him up mentally as well as physically, seeing which, I plied him with questions regarding his illness and means of support,- questions which, notwithstanding the evident displeasure of his father, he an swered courteously and intelligently. Before my departure I put the room in order, and brought to the invalid and his father sufficient good food for a few days, and showed them how to prepare it. "My next visit was to a little boy who had been run over while playing in the street. He was dead when I reached him, and his mother, worn out alike by mental and physical exhaustion, for she had not slept at all, and had eaten but little for several days, was lying moaning upon a bed. Another child lay in an adjoining room, quite ill with malarial fever. This is so prevalent among tenement-house children in warm weather, that we usually carry with us something to relieve them. So I did what I could for her, and then began to arrange the rooms and prepare the dinner. The mother appeared indifferent to what was taking place; but the father, a truck-driver by profession, who sat silent at the window, seemed much pleased with my efforts. The rooms were close and the atmosphere was permeated with bad air coming from the lower halls. The back windows looked into those of ill-kept, tumble-down structures across a court, the odors of which were alike offensive. The family clothes were suspended upon some of the ropes that formed a sort of cobweb between the adjoining buildings. They had remained hanging there for nearly a week, and after serving the dinner, I set about taking them in. This was no easy matter. While tugging upon the lines, they caught upon those belonging to the inmates of the other houses, and clogged up the pulley, and, before I had completed my labors, I had been roundly scolded for my awkwardness by the stout, red-faced occupants of the windows in the quadrangle. The cartman had been compelled to remain home and neglect his work for several days, in order to assist his wife. His money was almost gone in consequence,―at a time, too, when an unusual outlay was necessary. So I returned early the following day, and remained until the affairs of the household were again in smoothrunning order. "The most unsatisfactory visits we make are to those addicted to the use of intoxicating liquor. It was upon one of these I next called. In a little, dingy apartment in the wing of an old house which seemed to lean for support upon its neighbor, equally unsteady, I found a woman whose children I had nursed for weeks at a time. I had before seen her when under the influence of liquor, but now she seemed to be almost crazed with it. The children, ragged and dirty, were lying upon the floor, and, when I offered to look after them during her absence-for she was putting on her bonnet-she almost flew at me, with taunts that I had abandoned her when she was starving. As a matter of fact, I had been with her upon the previous day." Such is the work, such the experience of those of the training-school graduates who elect to exchange the comforts (often the luxuries) of home, and the society of friends, for the exposures and dangers incident to a life among the poor sick. When the managers of the training-school announced, some years since, that they would send nurses to private families in cases of illness, the applications were so few that they were led to fear that this branch of the school would be unsupported, and that the nurses would find themselves deceived regarding their future prospects. But the value of the trained nurse, little known at that time in America, soon began to be recognized, and the demand for such services increased, until, at the present time, there is a greater call for nurses than can be supplied. Many who formerly refused to consider a suggestion to call in a nurse, now eagerly apply for them; and surgeons, in certain instances, have refused to perform operations without the subsequent assistance of a trained nurse. Before going to a private house, the nurse is carefully instructed by the superintendent. She must not leave it without communicating with her, nor return from her duties without a certificate of conduct and efficiency from the family of the patient or the physician attending. She is expected and urged to bear in mind the importance of the situation, and to show, at all times, self-denial and forbearance. She must take upon herself the entire charge of the sick-room. Above all, she is charged to hold sacred any knowledge of its private affairs which she may acquire through her temporary connection with the household. She receives a stipulated sum for her services, but this will not always compensate her for the annoyances with which the position is occasionally beset. In addition to this field in New York city and vicinity, there is an increasing demand throughout the country for experienced nurses to take charge of hospitals and schools. Graduates of the Bellevue school have been called to be superintendents of the nursing departments of the following institutions: Massachusetts General Hospital; Boston City Hospital; New Haven City Hospital; New York Hospital; Mt. Sinai Hospital, New York City; Brooklyn City Hospital; Cook County Hospital, Chicago; St. Luke's Hospital, Denver; Charity Hospital, New Orleans, and the Minneapolis (Minn.) Hospital; others are matrons of Roosevelt Hospital, New York City; Charleston (S. C.) Hospital; turned away because the school cannot be Lawrence (Mass.) Hospital, and the Seaman's further enlarged until the financial support of Hospital, Savannah, Ga. the enterprise is more considerable than at present. In conclusion it must be said that, while Miss Nightingale's theories are the basis of the Training-School, its managers have found it necessary to depart from the English system in some important particulars. For instance, Miss Nightingale regards it as indispensable that the superintendent and the nurses should live within the hospital. "Our experience is the reverse of this," say the committee. "American women, being of a sensitive, nervous organization, are at first depressed by the painful aspects of hospital Thus has the great work set afoot by a few noble women of New York developed, little by little, amid difficulties of which it would be useless to complain, since all have been surmounted. The results have amply justified their conviction that a demand for efficient nurses would speedily follow their supply, and that American women could be found willing to nurse the pauper sick, provided they were at the same time assured of a competence. That the profession of trained nurse will rise in estimation as the value of her services becomes better known, there is little doubt. Other occupations than hers life, and when they become interested in the have successfully met and overcome prejudice. Less than two centuries ago, the English clergy were entertained in the servants' hall, were sent upon errands, and were expected to marry my lady's waiting-maid. It was later yet when the surgeon was separated from the barber, as that by no means ancient pile, the Barber-Surgeons' hall, still standing in London-may remind us. Against any such lingering prejudice the moral and professional character of the school will prove an ample defense. Founded in the belief that the value of a nurse is in proportion to her intelligence, capacity, and refinement, it has proved an important step forward in our civilization, and its standard is not likely to be lowered in order to make a show of graduates. During the nine years of its existence one hundred and forty-nine pupils have received diplomas, seventy-eight of whom are now practicing in New York city. Perhaps twice as many capable women have been work they take it greatly to heart. Hence it is of importance to have a cheerful, comfortable home where they can each day throw off the cares of their profession." To the restfulness of the Home is attributed the exceptional health of the nurses, among whom but one death and very few dangerous illnesses have occurred since the opening of the school, almost ten years ago. Another necessity in an American training-school is the abolition of caste. In England the "ward sister" (who has received thorough training) is expected to be a lady, superior in social position and intelligence to the nurses, who are drawn from the class of domestic servants. At Bellevue, the preliminary examination, and the high standard subsequently exacted, exclude, and are meant to exclude them. But among those who enter there is no distinction. All submit to the same discipline and perform the same duties, none of which, being connected with the sick, is considered menial.* Franklin H. North. The introduction of trained nurses into county poor-houses is a natural sequence of their successful introduction into this hospital department of a city almshouse. In many poor-houses but little or no care is taken of the sick, one of the least disabled paupers usually being put in charge of those more seriously ill. Not in vain has the State Charities Aid Association called public attention to this state of things. The old barbarisms are passing away, and a new era is at hand. New York city wears the proud laurel of having first introduced trained nursing into a city almshouse, as Rensselaer County (Troy) leads the van of its introduction into a county poor-house. The authorities of this poor-house have recently engaged a graduate of the Bellevue School to take charge of the nursing department, and it is hoped that other counties of the State of New York may follow this humane example. |