be more fitting," Sœur Claire said to me, "than for these children, who are already parentless, to represent the new orphans and to follow the lonely bodies of the soldiers to the grave?"

But

And they were very poor at this orphanage. The mayor of the town allowed each child two cents a day. There were sixty children, and that was all they had to live upon. the kindly faces of those poor children and the lovely faces of the devoted sisters suggested that, whatever privations they suffered, they were sublimely happy in their good work.

Later, when I was in the hospital, I was able to get an occasional glimpse out of my window. The main road passed directly in front, skirted by a few pine trees on the edge of the lake, and under these pine trees were rows of artillery ammunition wagons. At intervals artillery drivers would hitch up their horses to one of the wagons and gallop away with it, and at intervals our ambulances brought their sad rows of wounded; and I could see the poor mangled men, swathed in bandages, being carried into the hospital on stretchers. I was very much attracted by an old, gray-haired lady, who spent her days awaiting the arrival of the ambulances, and as each man was drawn out she maneuvered an umbrella in such a way as to shield his eyes from the strong sun. She had discovered a means of rendering service-one of those simple, kindly acts of true devotion which mean so much.

One day during my stay in the hospital a fresh consignment of wounded from the front arrived, and among the most badly wounded was a young sergeant who in civil life was a Paris lawyer. His case shows the attitude of every true Frenchman toward the women of his family. He was a particularly handsome young fellow, with attractive manners. He had been severely wounded in the head, and underwent a serious operation. Upon regaining consciousness he implored the chief surgeon to telegraph to his mother and sister to come to him. He asked several times if they had replied. In a few days paralysis deprived him of the power of speech. He then used a pencil and wrote imploringly for

843

Let me quote from my journal of September 20, 1915:

I was in an improvised hospital this afternoon. It was late and the light was fading. The building is the Casino, where before the war visitors used to come to listen to music and to gamble.

There were many rows of beds, and every imaginable type of face was there framed by white pillows. Sad eyes watched one with a tired stare. The gilded columns and the vulgar mirrors added to the air of sadness which pervaded the whole place.

At the bedside of a lad of eighteen sat a widow -a spot of black amid the white surroundings. They did not appear to speak together, but the poor lady's eyes were fixed upon the lad.

She had lost her husband and two sons already in the war. She was at the bedside of her third son, whose leg was amputated yesterday, and whose life is ebbing away.

Two days later I was present when this poor afflicted mother came to say good-by to the nurse at the hospital-for her son had died. I heard her graceful speech of thanks. I saw her kindly hand-shake, and I shall always remember that poor lady's figure, all in black, with gentle dignity, passing down the line between the beds, and turning her head for a moment in the direction of that empty bed-the bed upon which her last hope had passed away.

Of course it is impossible for people like you in America, who are living in peace and happiness far away from the horrors of war, thoroughly to realize its wretchedness and misery. If it were only possible for you to see for one brief moment the faces of the French soldiers ! If you could only see the expression in their eyes, if you could only see those brave mothers and widows, and, most of all, if you could but see the childrenthose boys and girls whose childhood joys are turned into the tragic realities of life, deprived of all that is most vital to a child's welfare; if you could see all this, and experience for ever so brief a time that oppressive gloom which overhangs a country at war, I am sure that the impression would grip your hearts. It would make you feel thankful for all you have done to serve France, and it would encourage you to continue your work of charity.

For France is resisting invasion. Most of us know the charms of that hospitable holiday land. Most of us love to think and dream of our light-hearted picnics, our travels, and our visits to the beauty spots where our

minds have been often carried pack to past days in history, to the days of poetry and

romance.

Just as the war has utterly changed the aspect of a part of France, so in equal measure the war has affected the nature of the people. But there is this difference in the comparison while wreckage and ruin strew the land, the French people have risen as one man in presenting qualities which are the exact antithesis to the wreck which portions of the country have sustained.

We imagined we knew the French people. All of us have acknowledged their keen intelligence and nimble minds, their refinement, especially in speaking their own language, of which they are justly proud. The Frenchman talks clearly and distinctly as compared with the slovenly way in which people talk in England and America. I never heard a Frenchman stutter. The Englishman is apt to hesitate, and even in America I have heard people talking carelessly.

One other thing which is not realized is the fact that France comes nearer being a real democracy than England or America. There is no such caste, for instance, as in England.

E

There is no such aristocracy of wealth as in America. In France you have the aristocracy of intellect.

France is a conglomerate of distinct types of people, though you see the typical Frenchman in all. Take the Bretons, for instance. I know a Breton who was one of three men left after the annihilation of his regiment. He immediately joined another regiment. He has written to us frequently, but he never refers to the horrors of war, or even its discomforts. He has watched nature, and his letters contain extraordinary poetry. The Breton appreciates the utility of everything non-material.

The war is harder on France than on Germany, but it cannot end until it ends our way. You could help us by giving us moral and financial support. Powerful as Germany is, the prospect of successfully facing the whole civilized world is absurd. It is beyond the wildest dream of any German to beat the whole world.

But, in any event, there is now a cold, grim determination on the part of England and France. They have got their second wind. They are taking the war as second nature. They will not consider terms of peace until they are victors.

Rome.

ARLY in the war a story was current

in Italy which, although never officially vouched for, has strong elements of probability. It was said that a young man born in Chicago of Italian parents, having come to Italy to enlist as a volunteer, had been captured by a couple of Austrians during a daring reconnoissance on which he was sent through a wooded section of the lower Isonzo. As he was being led, hands bound behind him, towards the Austrian trenches, he heard his captors speaking in his native tongue, or, as the story says, using "that particular pronunciation which distinguishes the English of Americans." So he entered into their conversation, and soon the three discovered that each was Americanborn and all were more at home in the vernacular of the United States than in the lan

guage of their "rulers." It appeared that the captors happened to be in Austria when

the war broke out and had been compelled to join the army. They made no complaint, however, except to state that the food they received was rather poor and the work endless and very heavy.

Thereupon the wily Chicagoan depicted the succulent rancio of the Italian army and the excellent treatment accorded by Italy to prisoners of war. All of this was true, but it was painted with such a fine Italian hand that after a while captives and captors were retracing their steps and heading, quite naturally, for the Italian trenches. In half an hour the Chicago Italian was delivering to his command two Paterson Austriansfriends of his "-with a very special plea for consideration.