He Then Enquired If
The Paper I Wrote For Was A Conservative Paper.
I replied that I would
not describe it as a Conservative paper, but as a religious paper.
He
then said the matron was not at home, and I prepared to leave. I
enquired first if he was the master. He replied in the affirmative, and
then said he would get the porter to show me round. "You will show her
through," he said, to a stout, heavy person sitting in the entry.
This gentleman, who brought to my mind the estimable Jeremiah
Flintwinch, accordingly showed me through the building. We passed the
closed doors of the casual ward, where intending inmates were examined
for admittance, and casuals were lodged for the night. Every door was
unlocked to admit us and carefully locked behind us, conveying an idea
of very prison-like administration. The able-bodied were at work, I
suppose, for few were visible except women who were nursing children.
There was a large number of patients in the infirmary wards. One man
whose bed was on the floor was evidently very near the gate we all must
enter. He never opened his eyes or seemed conscious of the presence of a
stranger. I noticed a little boy lift the poor head to place it easier.
I saw no one whom I could imagine was a nurse. The kindness and
tenderness of the beggar nurses in the sick wards of the workhouse at
Ballymena struck me forcibly.
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