with a little sigh of hopeless yearning, such
a glory being surely too impossible for
realisation, "How I wish I had one like
that!" When they upset their boxes of
sugar-plums—which they all did by trying
unscientific experiments with the lids and
original modes of convoy, bottom uppermost
—there was no outcry, only a general
scramble of little puddy hands, to pick up,
and gather in, the wreck. I will not
answer for the strictest honour of the
wreckers. I think I saw more than one
transfer of sugary jetsam and flotsam from
the floor to unlawful mouths; but there
was no complaint, and wreckers are
notoriously given to this kind of illegal transfer.

After the toys had been distributed, the
tree was drawn away, the lights put out,
and the magic lantern set agoing. The
story of Cinderella, and the adventures of a
light-minded cat; an energetic cobbler who
moved his arms and twitched his thread; a
jerking Blondin wheeling a barrow along
his tight rope with heroic courage if with an
uneasy motion, and whisking face about in
the twinkling of an eye and with the snap
of a tin accompaniment behind the screen
—with many other beautiful and aesthetic
pictures, all explained and managed by the
medical assistant in charge of the ward—
brought forth bursts of childish applause;
but in a noticeably feebler volume of sound
than if the audience had been anything but
a hospital audience. This was perhaps the
most touching fact of the whole day—the
subdued and plaintive tone of sickness
running through the joy and excitement of the
little company. How glad one felt for
that joy given to them in the midst of so
much suffering! They were all as well
cared for during the time of the magic
lantern as they had been in that of the
Christmas tree; and I saw the young
medical assistants hoist up such of the little
people as had strayed behind backs, and
seat them on their shoulders to give them
a good view. This too was an incident not
without value, if taken as a symbol; and
with this, as eminently significant and
suggestive, I will end my meagre account of
the New Year's-day festivities in the Pantia
Ralli ward of King's College Hospital.

One word as to the origin of that ward.
It had long been a matter of regret to Dr.
Priestley, as a physician connected with
King's College Hospital, that they had no
ward specially devoted to children. So
many cases were brought to the hospital,
which they were obliged to send away to
die because they had no place for them,
that the need of a children's ward, and the
immense benefit that would result from it,
became daily more pressing in his mind,
and an idea which he earnestly longed to
see realised. One night he was sitting with
Mr. Ralli, a liberal and wealthy Greek merchant,
whose name is well known to most of
us; and while waiting for the moment when
his attendance should be required up-stairs
—for Mrs. Ralli was ill—in the course of
a discussion on workhouse infirmaries, he
mentioned his desire for this children's
ward, and the great need there was for one
at King's College Hospital; and he spoke
as he felt, earnestly and warmly, but without
a thought of his friend's power or
possibilities. The next morning Mr. Ralli
sent him a cheque for five thousand pounds,
desiring him to found therewith the ward
he desired, to be called the Pantia Ralli
ward in memory of, and as a memorial to,
his father whom he had much loved, and,
in part, as a thank-offering for the safe passage
of his wife through a time of danger.
The money was to be invested in such
securities as he approved of, and Dr.
Priestley was to be one of the trustees;
there were to be twelve beds in the ward,
and he reserved to himself the right of
sending children there when he liked.
Finding on calculation that there was not
enough for the twelve beds proposed,
Mr. Ralli added another thousand pounds
to make up the sum needed. This then
was the origin of this pretty and delightful
ward—a chance conversation between
an earnest-minded man, deeply
touched by the sorrows he was unable to
relieve, and his generous friend, whose
heart caught the divine spark that warmed
the other, and who practically fulfilled what
that other had mentally originated. Alas!
there was to-day only the sweet and
sorrowful widow to see the good work of her
husband: he having "entered into his rest"
meanwhile; and the memorial he had
designed for his father having become now
his own.

He could have raised none of greater
value. In old times medical students cared
nothing for children's diseases, and knew
nothing of them; now they are educated
to understand the special nature of these
diseases, and taught to give them the
attention and thought they demand. And
as we have learned to think that beginning
at the beginning is a better system than
tinkering midway, the prevention of disease
in childhood is now accepted as a wiser
thing than leaving the little ones to perish