He had learned a few words of French, which he constantly addressed to me, as, being a stranger, he concluded it must be my native tongue. Regularly every morning his “Pon jour, Mamselle, vous êtes pien ce matin?” elicited the admiration of his comrades, and even the Sister Joanna treated him with increased deference on account of his acquirements.
Many of the patients were not such pleasant subjects. A poor shoemaker, of a morose turn of mind, not improved by a severe illness of two months, was never satisfied or contented; he received all attention in surly silence, or with a discontented growl: his bed was never comfortable, in spite of all efforts to shake it up; the patient sister had to make and re-make this vexatious bed many times, before the exacting Hans would be satisfied, and then he would turn in, too sulky even to thank her for her trouble.
Early hours are considered beneficial for the community. By half-past five o’clock the sister is astir in the wards, ventilating it and attending to the comforts of her patients; the sisters then have breakfast, which always includes coffee and milk-rolls, known as milk-bread in Germany. After this the sister in each ward reads a short meditation and prayer. Then she begins the work of getting all in order preparatory to the doctor’s visit; making the beds, &c. &c. All is generally in good order by ten o’clock, when the medical visit is expected. The Sister Superior accompanies the doctor, and writes down his directions for each patient, which are then given to the sisters of the different wards. Great care is taken to prevent confusion, the Sister Superior keeping all the directions in a ledger, and inquiring in the evening if they have been properly carried out.
The dinner-hour is twelve o’clock, and in the well-kept, clean kitchen, the Sister Superior appears ready to cut and apportion the meat for the different wards, and the sisters with their trays stand ready to carry it up-stairs.
The food is plain and well cooked; great care is taken where attention to diet is ordered; everything by being done regularly is done quickly, and it is astonishing with what rapidity the many dinners are sent up-stairs and distributed. The sisters then dine together, if the cases of illness are not very imminent; the patients are left alone, but there is a bell in the room which quickly summons the attendant in case of emergency. The dinner for the sisters is simple; the best of everything being reserved for the sick.
The usual soup for the sisters is a vegetable soup, into the composition of which no meat has entered. The favourite soup is composed of rolls rebaked put into water, with a certain amount of sour cream stirred into it before it boils. Though this may not sound well, it is, nevertheless, very good, especially if those who eat it are hungry. The diet, though homely and apparently meagre, is much what the sisters are used to in their own homes, and they thrive upon it. The simplicity is not intended as a mortification of the flesh; but only because the sisters do not think needless indulgences desirable; and they prefer, by careful economy on their own account, to have more means at their command for assisting those who require their help. In accordance with the old rules in religious houses, silence is enjoined during dinner, and a short meditation and prayer is read after it is finished. The sisters then visit their patients, and if all is going well, and they can leave them, they take a short turn in the garden, in which their beloved vegetables and a pet pig are no small attractions. A few flowers are gathered to please their patients, and to offer to the convalescents, who sit about under the trees; and the lively laugh when the sisters pass, or enter into conversation, shows that many a little repartee and joke slip behind the gates of the Deaconess House, and that a little harmless fun is not considered sinful.
The afternoon is varied by a four-o’clock refection of coffee; and, on festive occasions, a peculiar white bread, which is much approved of by all who taste it. A considerable amount of needlework is done by the sisters; all their own raiment is made in the mother house, and a constant supply is always kept ready for their poorer patients, who often come very badly provided.
By half-past seven o’clock, the sick have had their supper, and the wards are arranged for the night. The sisters then have their last meal, and all those who are not necessarily engaged in nursing bad cases sit and work for an hour, the Sister Superior again reading something aloud for their improvement. Prayers conclude the day, and soon after nine o’clock all is quiet, and most of the little community fast asleep. If watching is required, the night is divided into two watches, one sister taking charge until one hour after midnight, when she is relieved, and is thus able to resume her usual occupations during the day, without suffering from fatigue.
Sunday is the great day in the Deaconess House. After two o’clock not only the friends and relations of the patients, but all who are in any way interested in the little Institution are welcome to come as visitors; and those who come display much sympathy in the occupations and proceedings of the sisters. The Deaconess House attracts the best feelings of all classes, from the Grand Duchess to the peasant.
At the time of which I speak, Sister Mina, who had nursed one of the Grand Ducal family, was dying of consumption, and countless were the little attentions paid to her case by the Grand Duchess, who almost daily sent fruit and various delicacies to the sufferer. The poorer visitors gave also of their small means. Often, on opening the door, a peasant-woman, dressed in her peculiar costume, would enter, weary and wayworn, and yet determined not to return home without bringing her present of plums, apples, or sometimes a loaf of home-made bread, and have a little talk over all her own family history, her troubles and her joys, to which most affectionate and ready ear was always lent by the sisters. While I was there one poor old lady brought a letter from her son, who had been nursed at the hospital, and was, at the time I speak of, a missionary in America. This was the first letter received by her since he left home, and the first visit