A Pixy in Petticoats by John Trevena

It was two weeks after Burrough and the dummy had been bowled over by the same projectile. The remains of the wooden man had gone to feed camp fires; those of the other were receiving the attentions of the War Office. An army doctor attended Burrough daily, and an army nurse permanently. And Beatrice came to visit him very often. She would hold his hand, and prattle her nonsense, and frisk about the bed like a kitten at play.

A splinter from the dummy had struck Burrough just above the right eye, but had luckily glanced off without penetrating. To what extent the eye itself was injured he did not know, and the surgeon had not told him. "Just a nasty scratch! You'll soon be about again," said that cheery optimist. In the meantime much correspondence took place between the secretary of the colonel commanding the artillery camp and the War Office concerning the effect of a certain class of projectile upon a wooden dummy and a human being, thereinafter called "B.," situate in a straight line some two hundred yards in its rear.