she had her own way.  She was neat and tidy, and ready to serve me at any time, night or day.  She did not wear false teeth that rattled when she talked, nor boots that squeaked when she walked.  She did not snuff nor chew cloves, nor speak except when spoken to.  Our discussions, on various points, went on at intervals, until I succeeded in planting some ideas in her mind, and when she left me, at the end of six weeks, she confessed that she had learned some valuable lessons.  As the baby had slept quietly most of the time, had no crying spells, nor colic, and I looked well, she naturally came to the conclusion that pure air, sunshine, proper dressing, and regular feeding were more necessary for babies than herb teas and soothing syrups.

Besides the obstinacy of the nurse, I had the ignorance of physicians to contend with.  When the child was four days old we discovered that the collar bone was bent.  The physician, wishing to get a pressure on the shoulder, braced the bandage round the wrist.  “Leave that,” he said, “ten days, and then it will be all right.”  Soon after he left I noticed that the child’s hand was blue, showing that the circulation was impeded.  “That will never do,” said I; “nurse, take it off.”  “No, indeed,” she answered, “I shall never interfere with the doctor.”  So I took it off myself, and sent for another doctor, who was said to know more of surgery.  He expressed great surprise that the first physician called should have put on so severe a bandage.  “That,” said he, “would do for a grown man, but ten days of it on a child would make him a cripple.”  However, he did nearly the same thing, only fastening it round the hand instead of the wrist.  I soon saw that the ends of the fingers were all purple, and that to leave that on ten days would be as dangerous as the first.  So I took that off.

“What a woman!” exclaimed the nurse.  “What do you propose to do?”

“Think out something better, myself; so brace me up with some pillows and give the baby to me.”

She looked at me aghast and said, “You’d better trust the doctors, or your child will be a helpless cripple.”

“Yes,” I replied, “he would be, if we had left either of those bandages on, but I have an idea of something better.”

“Now,” said I, talking partly to myself and partly to her, “what we want is a little pressure on that bone; that is what both those men aimed at.  How can we get it without involving the arm, is the question?”

“I am sure I don’t know,” said she, rubbing her hands and taking two or three brisk turns round the room.

“Well, bring me three strips of linen, four double.”  I then folded one, wet in arnica and water, and laid it on the collar bone, put two other bands, like a pair of suspenders, over the shoulders, crossing them both in front and behind, pinning the ends to the diaper, which gave the needed pressure without impeding the circulation anywhere.  As I finished she gave me a look of budding confidence, and seemed satisfied that all was well.  Several times, night and day, we wet the compress and readjusted the bands, until all appearances of inflammation had subsided.