This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1911 edition. Excerpt: ...they can be communicated with in person at these hours. A nurse generally takes great pride in her district. She quickly grows to know many of the people living within its boundaries. She has a patient first in one house, then in another, until at the end of a couple of years she is so well known amongst the people of the neighborhood that one marvels almost at her extensive acquaintance. She learns to know not only about their illnesses, but of their pleasures and disappointments, of their sorrows of the past and hopes for the future. The children of the district all know her and watch for her coming, and she is often to be seen walking through a crowded street with a group of noisy, clamoring children clinging to her hands, her arms, and her skirts, almost, in fact, impeding her way. But all of this gives her pleasure, and she looks upon these people as one large family, and herself the mother of them all. Following her through her district, one is likely to be impressed by the number and character of the people with whom she stops to speak. An old man, with bowed head and silvery hair, greets her with a wave of his cane, and, as she listens, pours out a tirade of half English, half Italian, telling her of his latest pain, or of his longing for that sunny land beyond the sea, where he hopes to spend his last days. Farther on a young mother, with a buxom baby in her arms, taps the nurse on her shoulder as she passes by and draws her attention to her offspring, pointing out the wonderful change from the small, frail baby the nurse has last seen. Later, two darkeyed, curly-haired children race up to her, crying, as they come: "Nurse, nurse, you senda me and Tony to the country thisa summer?" So on she goes, this friend of the... - from Amzon