The Story of the Red Cross as told to The Little Colonel | Page 9

is the
same design that is on his blanket and shouldah-bags. Why, it's just like
the Swiss flag!" she cried, looking out at the banner floating from the

pier. "Only the colors are turned around. The flag has a white cross on a
red ground, and this is a red cross on a white ground. Why did you
have it put on the collah, Papa Jack?"
"Because he is a Red Cross dog," answered her father.
"No, Papa Jack. Excuse me for contradictin', but the Majah said he was
a St. Bernard dog."
Mr. Sherman laughed, but before he could explain he was called to the
office to answer a telegram. When he returned Lloyd had disappeared
to find the Major, and ask about the symbol on the collar. She found
him in his favorite seat near the fountain, in the shady courtyard.
Perching on a bench near by with Hero for a foot-stool, she asked,
"Majah, is Hero a St. Bernard or a Red Cross dog?"
"He is both," answered the Major, smiling at her puzzled expression.
"He is the first because he belongs to that family of dogs, and he is the
second because he was adopted by the Red Cross Association, and
trained for its service. You know what that is, of course."
Still Lloyd looked puzzled. She shook her head. "No, I nevah heard of
it. Is it something Swiss or French?"
"Never heard of it!" repeated the Major. He spoke in such a surprised
tone that his voice sounded gruff and loud, and Lloyd almost jumped.
The harshness was so unexpected.
"Think again, child," he said, sternly. "Surely you have been told, at
least, of your brave countrywoman who is at the head of the
organization in America, who nursed not only the wounded of your
own land, but followed the Red Cross of mercy on many foreign
battle-fields!"
"Oh, a hospital nurse!" said Lloyd, wrinkling her forehead and trying to
think. "Miss Alcott was one. Everybody knows about her, and her
'Hospital Sketches' are lovely."

"No! no!" exclaimed the Major, impatiently. Lloyd, feeling from his
tone that ignorance on this subject was something he could not excuse,
tried again.
"I've heard of Florence Nightingale. In one of my books at home, a
Chatterbox, I think, there is a picture of her going through a hospital
ward. Mothah told me how good she was to the soldiahs, and how they
loved her. They even kissed her shadow on the wall as she passed.
They were so grateful."
"Ah, yes," murmured the old man. "Florence Nightingale will live long
in song and story. An angel of mercy she was, through all the horrors of
the Crimean War; but she was an English woman, my dear. The one I
mean is an American, and her name ought to go down in history with
the bravest of its patriots and the most honored of its benefactors. I
learned to know her first in that long siege at Strasburg. She nursed me
there, and I have followed her career with grateful interest ever since,
noting with admiration all that she has done for her country and
humanity the world over.
"If America ever writes a woman's name in her temple of fame (I say it
with uncovered head), that one should be the name of Clara Barton."
The old soldier lifted his hat as he spoke, and replaced it so solemnly
that Lloyd felt very uncomfortable, as if she were in some way to
blame for not knowing and admiring this Red Cross nurse of whom she
had never heard. Her face flushed, and much embarrassed, she drew the
toe of her slipper along Hero's back, answering, in an abused tone:
"But, Majah, how could I be expected to know anything about her?
There is nothing in ou' school-books, and nobody told me, and Papa
Jack won't let me read the newspapahs, they're so full of horrible
murdahs and things. So how could I evah find out? I couldn't learn
everything in twelve yeahs, and that's all the longah I've lived."
The Major laughed. "Forgive me, little one!" he cried, seeing the
distress and embarrassment in her face. "A thousand pardons! The fault
is not yours, but your country's, that it has not taught its children to

honor its benefactor as she deserves. I am glad that it has been given to
me to tell you the story of one of the most beautiful things that ever
happened in Switzerland--the founding of the Red Cross. You will
remember it with greater interest, I am sure, because, while I talk, the
cross of the Swiss flag floats over us, and it was here in this old town of
Geneva the merciful work had its beginning."
Lloyd settled herself to listen, still stroking Hero's