Mrs. Minks Soldier and Other Stories | Page 6

and by he stirred and opened his eyes.

"Oh you came!" he said, "I mean you not to know I be in hospital. You
must have the kindness not to trouble about me."
"Trouble nothing," said Miss Mink, husky with emotion, "I never knew
a thing about it until to-day. What have they got you harnessed up like
this for?"
Then Alexis with difficulty found the English words to tell her how his
leg had not set straight, had been re-broken and was now being forced
into proper position.
"It is like hell, Madame," he concluded with a trembling lip, then he
drew a sharp breath, "But no, I forget, I am in the army. I beg you
excuse my complain."
Miss Mink laid herself out to entertain him. She unpacked her basket,
and spread her meagre offerings before him. She described in detail all
the surgical operations she had ever had any experience with, following
some to their direst consequences. Alexis listened apathetically. Now
and then a spasm of pain contracted his face, but he uttered no word of
complaint.
Only once during the afternoon did his eyes brighten. Miss Mink
caught the sudden change in his expression and, following his glance,
saw Lois Chalmers coming through the ward. She had thrown aside her
heavy fur coat, and her slim graceful little figure as alert as a bird's
darted from cart to cot as she tossed packages of cigarettes to right and
left.
"Here you are, Mr. Whiskers!" she was calling out gaily to one. "This is
for you, Colonel Collar Bone. Where's Cadet Limpy? Discharged?
Good for him! Hello, Mr. Strong Man!" For a moment she poised at the
foot of Bowinski's cot, then recognizing Miss Mink she nodded:
"So you found your soldier? I'm going back to town in ten minutes, I'll
take you along if you like."
She flitted out of the ward as quickly as she had come, leaving two
long rows of smiling faces in her wake. She had brought no pity, nor
tenderness, nor understanding, but she had brought her fresh young
beauty, and her little gift of gayety, and made men forget, at least for a
moment, their pain-racked bodies and their weary brains.
Miss Mink reached her cottage that night weary and depressed. She had
had nothing to eat since breakfast, and yet was too tired to prepare
supper. She made her a cup of tea which she drank standing, and then

crept into bed only to lie staring into the darkness tortured by the
thought of those heavy weights on Bowinski's injured leg.
The result of her weariness and exposure was a sharp attack of tonsilitis
that kept her in bed several weeks. The first time she was able to be up,
she began to count the hours until the next visiting day at the Camp.
Her basket was packed the evening before, and placed beside the box of
carnations in which she had extravagantly indulged. It is doubtful
whether Miss Mink was ever so happy in her life as during that hour of
pleased expectancy.
As she moved feebly about putting the house in order, so that she could
make an early start in the morning, she discovered a letter that the
Postman had thrust under the side door earlier in the day. Across the
left hand corner was pictured an American flag, and across the right
was a red triangle in a circle. She hastily tore off the envelop and read:
Dear Mrs. Mink:
I am out the Hospital, getting along fine. Hope you are in the same
circumstances. I am sending you a book which I got from a Dear
Young Lady, in the Hospital. I really do not know what to call her
because I do not know her name, but I know she deserve a nice, nice
name for all good She dose to all soldiers. I think she deserve more
especially from me than to call her a Sweet Dear Lady, because that I
have the discouragement, and she make me to laugh and take heart. I
would ask your kind favor to please pass the book back to the Young
Lady, and pleas pass my thankful word to her, and if you might be able
to send me her name before that I go to France, which I learn is very
soon. Excuse all errors if you pleas will. This is goodby from
Your soldier friend, A. BOWINSKI.
Miss Mink read the letter through, then she sat down limply in a
kitchen chair and stared at the stove. Twice she half rose to get the pen
and ink on the shelf above the coal box, but each time she changed her
mind, folded her arms indignantly, and went back to her stern
contemplation of the