Washington, July 12, 1917.

To L. McL.

I have had such an exciting day. As I entered the hotel this morning, Dr. Lucas was at the telephone asking for me. The telegram I sent him en route settled everything. He took it to the Red Cross headquarters and Miss Delano immediately agreed to let him send for me. The "Commission," as it is called, consists of twelve doctors with big reputations, Mrs. Lucas, Mrs. Slemons (one of the doctor's wives), and myself. I am to organize the nursing end of it. I went at once to the Red Cross building and had long conferences with the heads---Miss Delano soon got an idea that I knew every one on earth, because our talk was first interrupted by Miss H. Draper, an old friend of Cousin Loyall's and head of the New York Red Cross, and about ten minutes later by Sadie Murray who, of course, fell into my arms, then a note was brought in from Mrs. Newlands asking me to dinner, where I am going in about ten minutes. I did not go to the Grafton but am at a little place near by where the Lucases are, just like the Haven! We are beautifully taken care of by a negro couple---breakfast in our rooms!

It is lovely here now. I have never seen Washington in her summer clothes before, but it is very hot. I am so disgusted that I had all those white dresses made. The Red Cross has supplied me with a whole outfit, dresses, aprons, coat, cape and caps.

I think we will have a very interesting time making the survey for about two months before the real work begins. Mrs. Lucas is to have moving pictures of it all for publicity. I have had very little conversation with Dr. Lucas so far. I have found out that there is little chance of the University of California Base Hospital Unit going to France, so I am glad I am out of it.

Of course much of my time has been spent at the Red Cross building with Miss Delano and Miss Noyes---the former is fine---72 years old but very well preserved. Miss Noyes is my real chief. However, when all is said and done, they frankly say our mission is a new one to them all; they have no instructions to give me---we have to work it all out.

After lunch yesterday I went to the House and heard an interesting speech on Aviation and then called on Jeanette Rankin who greeted me with open arms and asked almost immediately for Peter who was a great friend of hers. She is very disapproving of these militant suffragettes, thinks it is harming the cause and says Mrs. Park thinks likewise.

I called on Cousin Sam---he is an old dear, the very image of our old portrait of Grandpa Ashe. I picked him out among a crowd of men from the likeness. His features are small. He says he considers the President a great man, although he has not always approved of his policies. For instance he said "When the Lusitania went down, I would have written the Kaiser and said: 'Sir, you are unfit for me in the future to communicate with," or something to that effect. He said that greatness consisted in having the vision to see the right thing to do, although it might appear to the world to be unwise at the time. He has a son in the navy who is now on one of our destroyers, he touches on the coast of Ireland. I overstayed my time talking to the dear old man and rushed madly to lunch with George Scott, who is perfectly splendid. He is in the supply department of the Red Cross representing Chicago. He gave us two beautiful lunches at the Shoreham where we saw all the celebrities. Yesterday Mr. and Mrs. Cook, the president of the Erie R. R., lunched with us. I mention this just to give you an idea of the men who are giving their whole time to the Government now.

Dr. Lucas is working hard on lists and I am helping him---dispensary outfits---he may even organize children's hospitals. His orders are very general at present, a survey must be made, but as nearly as he knows at present the work is to be done in the large centers, Paris, Bordeaux, Lyons, etc., not in the devastated districts. I am to organize the nurses.

We expect at present to sail on the St. Louis the 21st, for Liverpool, to leave there just as soon as possible. I hope to get off to New York this evening on a midnight train, spend a day there, tomorrow take the midnight train to Bath, have one day with Millie and return that same night to New York.

New York, July 19, 1917.

To L. McL.

I moved to the Presbyterian Hospital this morning, found a lovely greeting from Miss Maxwell. It is very hot in New York, much more lifeless than Washington. It will be good to get to sea. I spent this entire morning getting my uniforms. I am taking two serge suits, as most of my work will be out of doors. It is very good looking, the hat becoming, dark blue velour; the bright red brassards on the sleeves of the coat and suit give it a very gay appearance. Miss Maxwell will be a great help to me, she is so full of enthusiasm and interest in the work. Two of our finest women in the nursing profession are on the National Council of Defense and are working day and night in Washington over it. I think it is splendid---Miss Beard and Miss Crandall---Alice will know them.

I am delighted with Rosamund Gilder, she is so thoughtful, helpful and intelligent, full of fun, too. She is about twenty-five years old, speaks French fluently, is to be Dr. Lucas' secretary.

S. S. "St. Louis," Sunday, July 22, 1917.

To L. McL.

We are out in the harbor waiting for our convoy. It was quite thrilling when steam was actually up and we were off. I have to pinch myself to know it is really I.

I must tell you the amusing thing that happened this morning. I was sitting quietly writing in a corner of the waiting room, keeping an eye on the desk where passengers showed passports, etc. Suddenly an agitated woman appeared urging for admission to the pier, holding in her hand a very attractive package which she was trying frantically to have delivered to a passenger, the man refused to have anything to do with it. Finally as she turned away in despair, I followed her and said I would be glad to deliver it, if it is not too valuable. She jumped at the chance and I found it marked "Miss Betty Ashe from Dorothy Coffin," who had come too late to see me. Miss Maxwell sent a probationer flying with it, who turned out to be a friend of Mrs. Casserly's, it pays to be obliging.

This steamer is well protected with guns; the men are now dragging huge shells before us and the Red Cross has provided us with wonderful life preservers.

Did I tell you that Miss Maxwell, in introducing me to a group of nurses, told them that I had humanized her training school, had showed them that all nurses did not have to be made after the same pattern. I felt that I had not lived in vain. I asked her subsequently what she thought the effect had been in the quality of the nurses turned out. Her answer was: "Maybe not as finished nurses but women better able to fill executive positions."

Miss Maxwell has given me splendid letters---seems to know all the important people from New York who are doing work in France. I wish that you had been with me in New York, it was a wonderful sight, especially down town. Old Trinity is draped with flags and looking from there down Wall Street is a thrilling sight to my mind. Dorothy Coffin and I visited the Nurses' Club, built for them by the Y. W. C. A., it is a twelve-story building wonderfully arranged with single rooms, beautiful library, reception rooms, restaurant, etc., roof garden and out of doors dining room. They certainly do things on a big scale in New York. Mr. Smith had a check for $200,000 drop into his lap for a school in which he is interested, and he didn't think much of it.

It was not possible for me to send the first part of my letter back and now we are in the middle of the 4th day of our journey. So far the sea has been like a lake, no one ill and all glad to relax after the past strenuous weeks. We are all full of paratyphoid germs, which make one feel inactive. It is rumored that we are to go directly to France, which would be a disappointment as we would all like a few days in London. The only excitements we have had are gun practices which make such terrific noise and brings realization of the state of war, and walking the decks at night in the pitch blackness, not a light showing, it is really very spooky.

Monday.

Just how much I can tell you of yesterday's attack I don't know, but we tumbled out at 7 a. m., clad hastily-my carefully thought out costume being the green sweater, black knickers covered by a skirt fastened by one hook which I intended to drop if we took to life boats. This was all surmounted by Miss Glider's tam o'shanter. It seemed so strange to be discussing clothes at the most exciting crisis of one's life. All of this was surrounded by a life preserver. The firing lasted about thirty minutes.

The shots went all over and around us, but except for a few broken windows, no damage was done---and we met a White Star liner making straight for the U boat; much signalling was done from our boat. We certainly are living in-----. Have seen any number of mine sweepers.

The coast is very lovely. With glasses we can see quaint houses and we smell the new mown hay. We will all be glad to be on terra firma again, although I wouldn't have missed the experience for anything.

We are making fast for Liverpool after a delay of more than twenty-four hours. Two convoys are still with us.

London, August 2, 1917.

To A. G.

It is certainly very difficult to write in the midst of many distracting things, at the same time I am eager to do so, as I know that everything I see and hear would be of great interest to you, as they are to me.

We visited yesterday a most interesting woman, who is the General Secretary of Infant Welfare Work. This work has increased enormously during the war. The interesting part of it is that these classes are only held for well mothers and babies, no sick ones admitted, they are referred to the dispensaries. They say that the combination never works even in the same building, with classes held at different times. I am enclosing the card used which I think would be economical for us instead of books, where it is a feeding case.

Although many places are closed here there is more to be seen than we can possibly arrange for in our short stay, as we are investigating all the welfare work possible. We really have not made a beginning educationally speaking. Every birth is reported to the center, a nurse immediately visits and tries to interest the mothers, etc. The doctors are paid for their services; this is also the case in Baltimore where this same work is done, even more extensively than here. Of course in both places they are not dealing with a strictly foreign population, as we are.

I spent the morning at the Royal Academy, the only public place open. Between the suffragettes and the war, all the art treasures have been concealed; has the world gone mad? The Turners are still exhibited so I spent a delightful morning with them.

We have just come from the Abbey where we attended a wonderful service commemorating the entry of England into the war. The King and Queen and little Prince George were present, which, of course, drew a big crowd. The old verger gave me a tip several days ago as to which door to go in at, in order not to have to wait too long. The Archbishop of Canterbury preached an excellent sermon in which he spoke most feelingly of America going in. When we first went into the Abbey, the sight of files of maimed and lame men coming in overcame me so I thought I should have to leave, but they finally were seated, and were forgotten in the beauty of the service. One poor fellow who was legless, was brought in on the back of a man---it is all too dreadful. These British soldiers are a magnificent set of men. I can not always distinguish between the English and Colonials, but they all look fine, even when disabled, and so bright and courageous, it thrills one.

The Canon read most beautifully and impressively the 35th chapter of Isaiah. I was very much impressed by the beauty of the place, the simplicity of the service and the lovely music ---the boys' voices were like an angel choir.

Last night we went to Hyde Park and listened to the band. It was fun watching the people. Nearly every man is in uniform and they all differ a little, enough to make an effect of color. Saturday night we went to the Haymarket Theatre to see "General Post," an excellent war comedy showing the effect of the war on snobbery.

From all I hear I fear we are up against a very hard proposition. Unless we receive much co-operation from the French Government, we can't do much, but Dr. Lucas thinks that has already been arranged. Everyone thinks the need is very great.

From what I hear it is thought that the end of the war is far off, all kinds of preparations are being made by Americans for the care of their wounded and nurses. A beautiful big clubhouse is ready for nurses returning from the front to rest---they can live there. Mrs. Reid is foremost in its management, she is working very hard.

I am very much impressed by the fine big men one sees in uniform, splendid looking fellows, not all English, many territorials, as they call them, and all looking so happy and bright although few walk without either crutches or a limp.

London is certainly a fascinating place and I hope some day I can be here when war is a far distant memory, but it will not be in my life time that these terrible scars can be effaced. It is truly heart breaking.

It is already four days since I began my letter, and it has been quite impossible for me to go on with it before now, between sight seeing and investigating the welfare work, I have been kept on the go, and am too tired to write at night. I shall try to confine my letters to you to the welfare end of it, and tell Linie of the sight seeing, she will be sure to pass on the letters to you. Dr. Lucas finds out everything, so we will have good opportunities to see things. On the whole the hospital and nursing is not done as well as ours, but it is quite amazing how well they have adapted these old houses to their new needs, and it is all so attractively done. For instance, in a nursery I was in, one room was done in French blue and white, curtains, covers, and babies, and in another all pink, curtains, babies, etc., the effect was really charming. The mothers work in munitions, in fact so many women seem to work in munitions that I think they must be manufacturing enough combustibles to blow up the world. The place that interested me the most was a tiny babies' hospital in a poor neighborhood, to save the babies whose mothers would not send them to big hospitals, it is something that I have always longed for.

When I see what is being done here for the people in the midst of all the calls made on everyone for war relief, it makes me feel so discouraged about the poverty stricken condition of our home charities, not one decently supported. It is really inexcusable. We have three district nurses to the entire city, and I am wondering who is helping Miss Johnson.

There has been endless fuss about our passports. Mine is in order as a Red Cross nurse, but Mrs. Lucas and Miss Gilder have a doubtful position, and are rather suspicious characters from the French point of view. I do hope we will get off by Sunday, as I feel we are wasting time and money as our party of twelve are here at the Red Cross expense. This morning I made a round with the District Nurse; what would please you would be to see the poorest children looking so well nourished. Everyone says this is the result of better wages. I hear that there is more drinking among the women, who fill the public houses. The District Nurse's hours are from 10 a. m. to 10 p. m., with about two hours off for meals. No time off during the week, not even Sundays, I do not see how they stand it.

Lady Ward (Jean Reid) has built a splendid place for American soldiers, it is under the Y. M. C. A. It is a sort of portable house or cluster of houses or huts. This American house or group has sleeping and eating capacity for 800 men. It is very simple but beautifully done, such pretty curtains, furniture coverings, etc. I was especially taken with the tables which I would like to imitate for the Farm. The tops are tiled, so much prettier than oil cloth. I do not know how they will look after hard use, but it would be pretty to have a green table under the trees.

This afternoon I visited Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. It is perfectly dear and the children flock about him. It did my heart good to see all these poor children in these beautiful gardens, and so accessible to them. These London parks in the midst of this crowded city are truly wonderful, and we can not afford it in San Francisco. What a lost opportunity!

London, August 9, 1917.

To L. McL.

This idea that 60 per cent of the letters are lost is very discouraging to the pen of a ready writer. You told me that in order to impress on me the importance of writing often.

I have had a most interesting week, we struck the first bank holiday which has been given since the war began, but London instead of leaving town in hordes stayed at home, as the train service is so poor at present that traveling is no pleasure. Well, in the early morning I sneaked off from the crowd. I took my guide book and sallied forth to see the town. It was most interesting to see London in holiday attire, literally turned out into the streets---5,000,000 people wandering about. The first thing I struck was the change of guard at Buckingham Palace. I made friends there with an old soldier pensioner from the Chelsea Soldiers' Home. He was dressed in a bright red cloth coat and covered with medals. He attached himself to me and acted as my guide, between us we attracted much attention, as our R. C. uniforms always do anyway. They are an open sesame to everything, no fees at the public amusements, army and navy stores open to us, etc., and the police are endless in their patience in answering questions. After seeing the Horse Guards prance and listening to the band play, I made my way to London Bridge guided by the old man. I wandered about in a poor district there, talked to the people and had a most interesting morning. It is very touching the way people come up to me and say, "God bless the Americans for coming to our help." The mass of people here certainly do appreciate what we are doing. Sometimes they say, "Write to the people at home and thank them for us."

Food is not any higher here than at home, except sugar, which is more difficult to get. Prices in the restaurants are not as high as ours, for instance, I had a golden buck, cup of coffee with milk, oat-cake, very large, and apple tart for lunch, cost 30 cents. Except in the really swell places things are not nearly so well served or so clean, the mussiest looking girls wait, never clean, in fact we find the standard of cleanliness nowhere up to ours---hospitals or anywhere---no evidence of the vacuum cleaner.

I have the greatest admiration for the Englishwoman in this war work. We visited a Tommies' Club at midnight after the theatre, and there we found a shift, women volunteers who had just come on, their hours were 11 p. m. till 6 a. m.---serving food all night long. The troop trains arrive at all hours of the night. Alice would love the boy scouts, who are very much in evidence, so much more attractively dressed than ours. They wear different colored sweaters of the home-spun type, short stockings to match and trousers of the same color in serge; each troop has its own color, a big colored handkerchief is knotted around the neck and they are covered with insignia; what is more, one rarely sees a boy under 14 with a hat on, and then only a school cap. I have written these details for Alice's benefit. One sees women frequently running elevators in costumes just like Bobby's riding breeches and coat.

I overlooked this page-will write on it an ad.

"10,000 women wanted for farm work. Free outfit---high boots, overall breeches and hat. 18 shillings a week and maintenance."

Paris, August 12, 1917.

To A. G.

Here we are at last, just three weeks from the day we sailed. We had quite a comfortable trip from London by way of Southampton and Havre. We were fortunate enough to get through the Custom House very rapidly, so were able to catch an early train from Havre reaching Paris at 12 mid-day instead of 10 p. m. which we feared.

August 14

Still no letters from home, although I have received some from Bath and New York. I have had two most interesting days. We spent the afternoon with Mrs. Bliss, such an interesting woman who seems to thoroughly understand the people

She is most enthusiastic over the French. They say Paris is filled with people eager to work with nothing to do, very much as it is with us. We will probably go to the front on Thursday, and then I believe it will be very difficult to get letters through. My French is going pretty well, I seem to have a perfectly good working knowledge of it. I can see much to be done for children here; two of our staff will go to work immediately in Paris working with the Rockefeller people who are going to establish tubercular dispensaries wherever possible.

While we are waiting for the police to put us through the third degree in questions before going to the front, I will try to get off this letter as I do not know when you will receive another, when once we get into the fighting district. This place we are going to is about 10 miles from the firing line. Most fortunately Miss Schofield and Miss Fell returned last night. Miss Schofield knew the one woman who understands social service work. She is eager for Dr. Lucas to establish a training school for district nurses in Paris with a hospital attached. She already has two hundred trained nurses in the field scattered over France, the wives of officers and people of intelligence. All these people think we can thus fill the biggest need here at present and it would be constructive work. It distresses me that Dr. Lucas is to be with us such a short time.

To answer one of your questions, Dr. Lucas has complete charge of the medical end of the civilian work. Dr. Miller from New York, who was in the Presbyterian Hospital when I was there, is doing tubercular work for the Rockefeller Institute and we hope to work together. They are the only men over here doing any civilian work.

I attended a wonderful High Mass at Norte Dame for the Feast of the Assumption, heavenly music. But Paris has not the same fascination for me that London has. It seems more like a big exposition rather poorly attended at present, of course this is a four days' impression, although the individual things here are quite beautiful. I know this is heresy.

Paris, Monday, August 13, 1917.

To L. McL.

While waiting developments at the American Red Cross I think I can get off a letter. The difficulty of seeing anyone here reminds me of the relief days in San Francisco.

We arrived in Paris yesterday at noon after an uneventful trip across the channel. We left Southampton at 9 p. m. and arrived at Havre at 6 p. m. Travelling is full of interest as everyone is on some special work with a uniform to indicate it. We hear all kinds of expressions. My letters which I hoped to find at the Red Cross have been forwarded to the American Post Office No. 10 rue St. Anne, which I think you had better use in the future as it is more sure. Just before leaving London I was lucky enough through Mrs. Reid to get a ticket for the House of Commons. It is very difficult for women to get in since the suffrage raids. The subject of debate was compulsory school law for children under fourteen. It was quite amusing to hear all the old arguments against it rehashed as if it was all original. I was very much interested to see the Speaker of the House sitting on a raised dais in a long white wig, and below him to see the men sitting in the front benches with their heels higher than their heads on the center table before them. I thought that a purely American custom. Of course I have not been here long enough to see anything, but we walked yesterday up the Champs Elysee to the Arc de Triomphe and found it almost deserted. Every other woman you meet is in deep mourning, veils, etc. In London very few wear mourning and then the simplest black, no crepe veils seen, of course to my way of thinking the only sensible thing.

Considering the agitation at home we have been particularly interested in the food question. We considered it very extravagantly used in London, and see no scarcity here. Sugar was difficult to get in England and bread also, but even in the poor sections I saw push carts covered with meat, fish and vegetables at moderate prices, not screened in any way from the dirt of the street and flies. The poorest London children look well nourished, in fact the poor there have never been so well off as they are now. Food prices have gone up in proportion to the wage scale which is very high, but the drinking among the women has greatly increased.

Later:---We have had a conference with the Red Cross heads and it has been decided that our party divide now, some to remain in Paris and others to go to the front. I am in the latter group. We are to go into the same district that Daisy Polk is working in, the district is large so we may not even touch her work, but it will give you an idea of our whereabouts I don't know how much I am permitted to write of it as yet.

Somewhere in France, August 17, 1917.

To L. McL.

We are traveling through the valley of the Marne. You can not conceive of anything more peaceful and beautiful, in spite of the occasional encampment we see and the guns peeping from every bush. The fields are being beautifully cultivated, the harvest going on and the crops look good to me---it only impresses us more and more with the frightfulness of it all. We see the women toiling in the fields, the soldiers washing their clothes at the river bank and such a lovely peaceful river. We hear a good deal of our troops. Mr. Miel is working with our army, they are so short of tobacco, although the New York Sun has raised an enormous sum to supply it---I think $300,000---but it is difficult to get it over. When the agent arrives he is mobbed. He gave us a graphic account of his arrival in one camp where the men were in swimming, they simply mobbed him in their birthday clothes. Of course he wanted a movie of it, but was interfered with, can you imagine the scandal of that? I hate to write to you in pencil ---but I have to squeeze in letters.

What the Y. M. C. A. say is needed more than anything else with our boys is women's good influence, carefully selected, women to run canteens and really mother them. It must be done and soon I should think. We delayed half a day in Paris and as I was all packed and ready to leave I took the afternoon off and went to Versailles. It was one of those perfect evenings, wonderful cloud effects. We dined close to the lagoon in which was reflected the clouds and the colors of the setting sun. The only evidence of war there was the gardens planted with beaus---the effect was very good---more pleasing to my eye than formal flower beds.

We are traveling very comfortably into this war zone, a carriage to ourselves and diner, which will serve us a lunch at 12:30.

Please forgive me if I am terribly disconnected, but I jot I down little things as they occur to me. You must realize that we are in uniform all the time which paves the way for us, it is really an open sesame. Last night such a touching incident occurred. When we returned from Versailles on the street car we found that it only went to the fortifications. It was pitch black night, 9:30. The woman conductor assured us that we could go the rest of the way Metro. When we descended from the car into pitchy blackness I was scared. The woman realized our uncertainty and sent a little boy to show the way... We walked at least a mile through narrow black streets. I conversed with the little boy, aged 12, who told me that he worked 12 hours every day in a machine shop. Although his poor little legs must have been awfully tired, when I offered him a tip he refused, looking at my Red Cross, and said "No, Madame, c'est pour les blessés."

We now see the White Road to Verdun. It all seems like a dream to be here at times, am I dreaming or is it real?

I fear I won't be allowed to settle in one place and work as the scheme is such a big one that all that I am supposed to do is to get different groups started. It will be a very difficult matter as we may meet with much local opposition from the village doctor, etc., but our field of operation may extend from one end of France to the other. I have a passport which takes I me anywhere in the war zone. Our headquarters will be in Paris where we have to establish a school of district nurses in the near future with a small hospital attached for demonstration purposes. I didn't see Dick in Paris or hear of him.

Somewhere in France, August 17, 1917.

To A. G.

If you could behold us now! Mrs. Lucas and I are in the bar-room of the hotel, sitting at one of the little tables.

We can not tear ourselves away from the exciting events around us. Every little while the syrens blow which means shells are flying and we are warned to get under cover; when the tocsin sounds to seek the cellar. The hotel woman says it is very inconvenient in the middle of the night. We rushed into the street to see the German taubes which look like white puff balls. The town is filled with men, scarcely a woman in sight. It is surrounded by a wall and moat, one can not pass in or out without a military passport.

We inspected the refuge camp today which contains about three hundred children aged from two months to twelve years, and forty women. It has only been open two weeks and is really a herculean task. The place was an old barracks before and thoroughly infected, just as the old farmhouse was at Bothin. The floors deep in mud and dirt, and the children covered with impetigo and pediculosis. Several of the children have been badly wounded, one poor little chap with his eye blown out and his face badly disfigured. We saw a woman who was here for a few days' rest, she works in the fields at night with a helmet and gas mask, because the shells drop on her so in the day time she can not work. She has a baby two months old whom she leaves in this refuge. One of the women said she was so glad her boy was here because he was so naughty he would not wear his gas mask. I am dying to get into the place and help clean up. They are badly in need of a nurse there. All the helpers are first aiders, who are doing wonderfully, but who do not understand impetigo, feeding, etc., you know well what I mean. Dr. Lucas really needs my help too much to leave me here, but I think someone will have to be sent immediately. The expenses of the place are met by the State, but of course they can not supply everything. The Red Cross must help We have not met the wonderful prefect yet, his name is Mirman. His work is described in Arthur Gleason's book---"One part in the Great War."

Somewhere in France, August 19, 1917.

To A.G.

After writing last Thursday the Tocsin sounded and the fearsome took to the cellar, the rest of the town turned out to see the show. I figured it is as dangerous as crossing Market Street. I watched the clouds of white smoke from the Boche and French planes. The night before Dr. Lucas had a wonderful view of the surrounding country lighted by huge search lights, some from the Exposition. All kinds of colored light signals were thrown. We are close here to Fort St. Michel and hear the big guns. We sit in front of the hotel and watch the endless stream of interesting passers-by, troops in all kinds of uniforms and peasants with their burdens. I am personally awfully discouraged today.

We were to have passes to go to Nancy and environs, where the wonderful Mirman lives, and through the district where Daisy Polk works. Of course we were delighted and went off to the children's refuge to dinner. We watched from the hill there a most wonderful sun set followed by flashes from the big guns in the distance at St. Michel, Verdun---all so thrilling.

After sealing my letter this afternoon I found we were going after all. Dr. Lucas decided to make the trip which is most important for him, as we visit the towns where the children are living underground, and his report to the Red Cross will be most valuable. There is a noble cathedral here and we are five miles from Joan of Arc's birth place.

Paris, August 25, 1917.

To A. G.

Through some mistake in my passport I was kept in Toul two days. This has delayed my work. In the meantime I have got a very good picture of the general situation and if I were permitted would go straight ahead with rural district work. It is what is most needed. I would like to see a nurse settled among these poor people just as Daisy Polk is, she is doing real social work, living in a little cabin and was having a party for some of the older girls when we saw her. Dr. Lucas wants me to carry through another plan. Mlle. Montimort, who is a perfectly charming French woman, has started a sort of district nurses' school, and she wants us to take it over and run it on American lines. It is a big constructive work, but I do not think it could be done by me now. First, because a school is not built in a day, it must be a long, slow process, on good secure foundations, unless I had at least five free years ahead of me, I think it would be useless; secondly, I feel too old to launch a big undertaking of that kind, to revolutionize the nursing in France; thirdly, I think it should be done by a French woman trained in America for the purpose. It would really take months of study to organize to begin and in the meantime the children are crying for help.

To give you some idea of what it means we would first have to organize and run a civil hospital of at least 150 beds where the nurses could be taught, and in order to do this all kinds of political problems must be met, also professional jealousies, and all by a total stranger. Mlle. Montimort is the only person here, as far as I can see, who has any social ideas, in Paris I mean, she has a settlement and all these nurses working and is really a wonder, but no longer young either. The plan is for me to live with her at a woman's club and work the thing up. I am to begin tomorrow morning by making a survey of four districts in Paris to decide where we had best work. I am glad to do so, as I think one must understand Paris to understand France. To sum up our work so far it is just two weeks today since we arrived. We have inspected one district and left three men to work there, and one nurse---Mrs. Siemmons. Dr. Baldwin has visited another, bringing back a cry for immediate relief. Dr. Gelston and Dr. Siemmons have stayed in Paris and found out some important things for us. We have made many valuable connections.

When you write to ask me to tell you what to do to help I do not know what to say. From what I hear there seems to be plenty of undistributed clothing on hand, and every society at home clamoring to make more. Mlle. Montimort, who has a big grasp of things, feels that the work of the "Fatherless Children" is wasted. She feels that adequate help should be given a few rather than so many poorly helped. She sees the problem just as we would do at home. The minimum for each child must be $10 per month at the present prices.

I have a desk in the Red Cross main office and will be able to size up the situation better in a little while.

Paris, September 1, 1917.

To L. McL.

This is a queer place to work in, it is quite impossible to transact any business between the hours of 12 and 2 p. m., so unless you meet people and talk business with them at the lunch hour, you simply must rest, as even the stenographers are off. I have one of the latter at my disposal which is very useful to me especially for spelling. I have just lunched with such an interesting woman, a Mrs. Post, I have a feeling I should know something about her. She has developed a wonderful piece of work in France for tuberculosis, has district nurses all over Brittany. I am to visit her in order to study her work.

Dr. and Mrs. Lucas returned last night from Evian, on the border of Switzerland, where 1,000 refugees come through every day from Northern France. They say it was heart breaking to see them arrive, many tiny children coming, too young to tell their names, having been roughly separated from their parents. Long lines of refugees wait for every train, hoping that their loved ones will arrive, the most touching reunions take place. Many never find those they seek as the able bodied women are kept and the young children sent away, isn't it too horrible? The brutality of the German was again impressed on them by some English officers, forty of them who were passing through Lyons on their way home, exchanged prisoners, all physical wrecks. They told unbelievable tales of their treatment the first year. They would stand in line hours for food and just as they reached out a hand for a bowl of soup a German would spit into it, this was a common practice. Two of the men who were not wounded had operations in the muscles of their legs so that they would be stiff for all time, diabolical. Some of the men were such nervous wrecks from brutal treatment that they burst into tears if they were spoken to suddenly.

Paris, September 3, 1917.

To L. McL.

I am just adding a few lines in pencil, as I have not a pen, to tell you that dear old Dick appeared on the scene this afternoon, to rejoice my heart with his happy smile, which is as cheerful and broad as ever. I have never seen him in better form, his uniform is most becoming to him. If he has to wait for several weeks before he is assigned to a regiment to get his uniform, etc., he is going to try to get over to England; it would be impossible for most people, but Dick seems to be able to put this through. I wish that you could hear him tell his adventures. We dined together last night, of course he is eager for home news.

There are 800 American boys in the Camion Service, Dick says many of them are going in for aviation. I am thankful he is too heavy for it, you will be amazed that he says that his former vacation adventures did more to get him his commission than anything else. He was minutely questioned as to his past life, and the officer was delighted with his account of his vacations. Can we ever tell in this life what counts?

Somewhere in France, August 21, 1917.

To A. G.

I am going to write what I can of the wonderful day we had yesterday, not knowing what will go through, but I must try it. We were taken to the second line of defense, just think, only five miles from the Boches, by the way, if you say Allemand here, you are corrected. No other women have ever been so near the lines, even Miss Burke did not get beyond the forts, but we were between the forts and the Boche trenches. We visited several demolished villages en route, the object of our visit was to see the places where the children come from, count the number left behind, who all must wear gas masks which they often rebel at doing. No children under eight are left with their mothers, who work in the fields, sometimes at night, when the firing is too severe. The serenity and cheerfulness which they display is marvelous. Their ruined homes did not make the dreadful impression on me I anticipated, it is not a circumstance to our fire. Except where the churches are demolished, a social service worker can not help but feel that more sanitary buildings might be an improvement, the animals and people all live together. As far as food and clothes are concerned, they look well fed and clothed, but the filth is inherent, not just the result of the war. But can you imagine anything more dreadful than a condition in the supposedly Christian world? Christ on his crucifix in many villages is the only thing erect, where women and little children by thousands must work in the fields under shell fire wearing gas masks to protect them from the fiendish brutality of their fellow men. The Americans are said to be responsible for the invention of submarines and aeroplanes, but thank God, we are not responsible for the gas devil, but to return to my tale.

On Monday morning we started on our trip in two cars sent to us by the field staff. We were very soon on the "White Road to Verdun" which name is well applied. I never saw a more beautiful boulevard road, and winding through such a lovely country. The cars simply went like lightning. I have never driven so fast, our first stop was made to say "How do you do" at stations where our ambulance boys are living in what I call a mess. Fourteen of them were off duty with some skin trouble, probably scabies. Fortunately the work was light just then. We soon proceeded to the demolished villages and met the various mayors, who generally met us pitchfork in hand, they seem to elect by vote the most decrepit man in the village, not that we saw any others, every abled-bodied human being is at war, one never sees a youth, I don't know what has become of them unless they are all dead. The men in the army all look mature, which is quite different from the English. In London I saw so many boys in uniform who looked barely seventeen. The spirit of the French soldier seems fine, they are all smiles, even those we saw in the trenches. There is plenty of fight left in them yet. It seems to me as if they were all settled down to the business of war as if it were a regular business, and have no idea of its ever ceasing, the men really enjoy it. I can understand it a little bit because when we were in our battle at sea, I felt quite thrilled and excited at all the noise and commotion, but I fear there is something inherent in human nature that likes a fight. The women seemed to be in a perfectly normal state of mind and it is very difficult to persuade them to leave for places of safety. The head of a shell factory right at the front told me that the first day 400 of the cowards left and that since that none had gone. He has about 15,000 left in his village. His factory is shelled every night, everyone regularly goes to sleep in the cellar and they all look remarkably well, the age of maturity here seems to be 7. All children under 8 are sent away to those huge asylums, but I will describe them another time.

Between each village our cars went like mad, as the road was exposed to the enemy fire, we did not realize till afterward that the staff cars attracted attention to us. When we finally, after a mad dash, arrived at the second line, great was the surprise of the Colonel and the men who had never seen a woman there before. We were shown just how the wounded were given the first aid treatment. First, anti-tetanus toxin, then a simple dressing, followed by a dose of morphine to help them on the journey. The surgeon was very grateful to the American Fund for French Wounded, for all they had done for them. We went into the trenches which are filthy holes which animals would refuse to live in and then were taken up a side hill into a dug-out where the colonel had a banquet spread for us, the table decorated with flowers and an orchestra playing. The banquet consisted of Saratoga potatoes, bread and tea, beer and champagne. Most touching compliments were paid to our country, and when the orchestra played "Home, Sweet Home" from Martha, not knowing its meaning to us, it was almost too much. A man with a beautiful voice who sings in one of the Paris churches sang pathetic songs of his beloved country, and altogether it was an occasion I shall never forget, although it was almost more than I could bear, the body of a headless man had been carried into their little morgue a few minutes before. All the time the frightful guns were thundering away and every time I jumped the men all laughed, thought it was a big joke. But the pleasure those lonely men got out of our visit was pathetic in itself. Soldiers kept arriving with huge bunches of golden-rod in honor of our country. The French certainly know how to be agreeable. On our return we stopped at several hospitals where the most serious cases are taken care of, not a woman nurse and that tells the tale, flies thick everywhere, but the men all smiles. I bought a quantity of cigarettes which they eagerly seized. So far I have spent all my money for cigarettes and toys. The appeal to my heart has come from the poor uncomfortable, badly cared for, helpless men and the hundreds of dull eyed listless looking children, sitting around in these huge asylums with nothing to do, nothing to play with, they really don't know how to play. I have bought jumping ropes, balls, etc., all things which demand activity. They must learn to play hard. I actually taught some boys to play leap: frog, which they had never hard of. Our men are badly in need of base-balls, I believe the Y. M. C. A. have taken that up.

As we sped home later that evening a shell just missed us on the road, and the mayor of one of the villages told us the next day that four had fallen in the square just left. But I wouldn't have missed the trip for anything as all the reading in the world does not give you the true picture.

I am sending this to Bath first as I know I will never repeat all this.

P. S. I forgot to tell you that the curé's mother in one village was astonished to find we were not black, although Americans.

Paris, Sept. 9, 1917

To A. G.

I have been through some poor districts and have a pretty fair idea of the Paris situation. I saw a place yesterday where three thousand refugees are housed in model tenements built by the City of Paris for poor people, and not quite completed before the war. They were finished in a hurry and used for refugees. They are very light and well planned in a way, but no running water except kitchen sink and toilet; no light at night and no way to wash clothes as far as I could see. Of, course these refugees are terribly crowded in them. Paris was in the act of building a number of these when the war broke out, homes for one couple and for families with from one to four children only. Two big tenements are for tubercular families.

There is no doubt of the need of the work here; there is so much to be done that it is bewildering.

The work is going much more smoothly, many tangles have been straightened out.

Paris, Sept. 12, 1917.

To A. G.

I received your letter today saying you were sending me some money. Of course it is for me to spend for other people, the need for a special fund is so great. I suppose Red Cross red tape cannot be avoided when things come up. For instance, I gave $30.00 the other day to a Presbyterian Hospital nurse who has given her services since the beginning of the war to a place for children at Evian. She has never had any proper dispensary equipment. Dr. Lucas is going to take over the place but it may take two months to get it through. The poor woman seemed so tired and discouraged.

Paris, Sept. 16, 1917.

To A. G.

I was glad to get your news of Miss Johnson.

In all my travels I haven't seen a place which compared in charm to our Neighborhood House, or a nurse who could hold a candle to Miss Johnson. But tell her she is not needed over here, she might be dumped in one little corner and made to kick her heels for months or she might be overworked doing things other people could do better.

I doubt if much fighting will take place between now and Spring, when our men are expected to come and take the brunt of it. Do refer enough to my letters when you write to let me know that you receive them, it is discouraging to write these long letters and never know whether they arrive or not.

Yes, to answer one of your questions, that account in "The Times" was of our adventure. It was most exciting, in fact, the whole voyage was really thrilling. After the first two days out we came into a heavy fog and I can assure you that it was not comfortable going slowly through it with all lights out. I felt much more nervous about that than I did over the actual attack of the submarine which took place when we were seven days out, two days before we reached Belfast. We were awakened by firing at 7 a. m. I jumped up and began to put on the costume which I had decided on, black tights and a sweater with my skirt just hung on to me by one hook, so that I could drop it quickly. It was a bright, beautiful morning. The noise of the big guns which we were carrying was terrific. Well, we very quickly arrived at the saloon where all the passengers were shut up. I popped little Miss Gilder into one of those awful rubber suits and locked her in, they have huge metal clasps; then I put on one of the ship's preservers which I had decided to take my chances in, having been told that the rubber suits took up the place of three people in a boat. I have written all this before but you write that the pages were torn out.

The exchange of shots lasted thirty minutes. We fired forty and the enemy fifty-five, many of which broke over us and close beside. We literally ran away and when we were out of gun shot, went down and ate our breakfast as if nothing had happened.

I was really more nervous in the Irish Channel when we were carefully making our way over mines with possible submarines at any minute, but this seems like ancient history.

Morlaix, Sept. 19, 1917.

To A. G.

I wrote you such a blue, discouraged letter Sunday that I am quite ashamed of myself today and hope that both letters reach you the same day. I have been here with Mrs. Post for four days and feel like a different person. She has organized a wonderful piece of work here in Brittany which shows that women of our age are still young enough to be of some use in the world. I won't tell you about her work because I will write a report of it for Dr. Lucas and I will send you a copy.

You have been in my thoughts more than ever if possible since I have been here because I know that you love Brittany. Through the district nurses I have gotten into the heart of the country in the short time I have been here, in a way that I might not have done for months as a tourist. I have gone right into their homes, into houses built in the 14th century, too interesting and quaint for words, and filled with old carved furniture and wonderful clocks and china even in the homes of the poorest peasants.

We have found them squatting on the ground before an open fire, the whole family eating from a big iron pot in the center. The nurses have taught them the danger of the infected ones eating from the same bowl and actually taught them to boil their own bowls and spoons. I was surprised to find how successful they have been in instructing. Mrs. Post has seven nurses scattered among the small towns near here. It has been very encouraging to me to feel that my coming has been a real help to Mrs. Post, who, before she undertook this work, a little less than a year ago, knew absolutely nothing about district nursing and was not even interested in it. She was working with Dr. Carrell, she had brought over a unit of six nurses to help him. Dr. Carrell became interested in the tuberculosis problem of France. Eminent French doctors met at his hospital to discuss the subject. They managed to get through some good tuberculosis laws and then the French Commissioners begged Mrs. Post to start the ball rolling. She first positively declined, but when they returned several months later for her help again, she very reluctantly consented and came here because it was the most infected spot in France. Miss Maxwell provided her with a nurse who really instructed her in the a-b-c's of district work. The nurse was obliged to leave her about six months ago and she has been groping ahead ever since, reading books and getting practical experience. You can imagine how glad she is to have such a sympathetic visitor as I am.

Coming as I have from an office where any knowledge or experience I may have counts for nothing, it is a double pleasure to me to study Mrs. Post's methods which are admirable, and to give her suggestions which are helpful. For instance, she is converting an old place into a combination day camp for 150 people and hospital for research work. I was able to plan for her the best places for her awnings, etc. Her idea had been that the more wind they were exposed to the better. She was just about to build a pavilion, just a roof and floor for a dining room in a most exposed place. I persuaded her not to build anything at present but arrange for the patients to have their meals indoors in a building on the place where they can be warm and comfortable while eating. Then we have had a great time in talking over the possibilities of her farm, 25 acres. of course I am urging Flemish hares, etc. Mrs. Post is very receptive and falls upon every idea with avidity. I am also urging pottery for the day camp people. It seems that the making of pottery has been given up in this neighborhood although the clay comes from here. She is enthusiastic at the idea of reviving the art. She can easily get a good potter to run it.

I have seen such wonderful sun cures that I want to take off all the clothes of the children at the Farm and expose them to the sun. It has to be done with a good deal of care at first, gradually increasing the length of exposure.

Sunday, Sept. 22

I couldn't finish my letter at Morlaix, and here I am on the Paris train leaving Quimpere where we have been for two days. Mrs. Post returned to Morlaix last night. She has really done wonders here and of a permanent nature. It is the best single piece of public health work I ever seen done. I am charmed with Brittany, find the people much more attractive than the other French peasants I have seen, much cleaner, and of course, their costumes are fascinating. Yesterday was market day. I couldn't tear myself away from the spot. The women and little girls all wear black, except their caps. The day war was declared all colors were put away, but men wore bright colored jackets and mixed with the Zouaves in bright red and the sailors with their blue collars and red pompons, the market place was a gay sight.

My entire trip interested me, it was such an opportunity to go into the homes of the peasants. Millie would have gone crazy over the furniture, and as for Mrs. Griffith (Adelaide), she would have forcibly removed much of it. The simplest peasants' homes filled with carved furniture trimmed with shining brass, wonderful old clocks and china, or rather pottery, not much of the last.

We paid nursing visits in houses dating from the 14th century, all spotlessly clean. The people speak very little French, so it makes the work more difficult. Mrs. Post has several nurses who speak Breton. The patients really follow out instructions. They have 420 cases in the little town of Morlaix. They do no nursing except dressings; the idea being that they had to choose between real nursing and educational work---as it was impossible to do both. They teach one thing at a time, don't take the second step until the first is learned. For instance they don't at one and the same visit tell patients to guard sputum, open the windows, not drink coffee, to sleep alone, to boil their dishes, etc.

We motored from village to village where the dispensaries are established, five in all, each village quainter than the last, all the surrounding country highly cultivated and all by women who work so hard they can no longer nurse the babies, and although it is a dairy country, such poor care is taken of the cows' milk that no one thinks of using milk that has not been boiled. I told Mrs. Post that until they tackled the milk and water question I thought their fight against tuberculosis was a hopeless one. There is more tuberculosis in Brittany than in any other part of France.

Another fascinating sight was a pilgrimage to a "Pardon," as they call it. The mass was held in the open air, the altar being over a spot where some miracle was performed. It was touching to see the crowd of women and men in their quaint costumes kneeling there under the trees praying for France, and their boys at the front. The last call has been made for boys from 17 to 19.

I met the man who is the Grenfell of this coast. He has established hospitals, reading rooms, etc. I am returning to Paris renewed for the fray.

Paris, September 26, 1917.

To A. G.

Since my return to Paris things have been very quiet as Dr. Lucas is away---the office is like a lull after a storm---not that he is at all stormy. On the contrary he is very quiet, but it means such a rush of business. You see our bureau is quite different from what Dr. Lucas or any one expected. All the children's work in France has been thrust upon him, sick and well. He has to investigate and decide on all the aid given to already organized societies. It is really a herculean task. While our supplies, nurses, etc., are en route I am helping in this. I am happier now having something definite to do.

The Finistere report will give you an idea of it. Of course it is not constructive work but I am glad to do something really useful.

I am to inspect orphan asylums next week. I spend much time interviewing women. I think every misfit in France is steered to me and there are many. There is a whole group of people over here I really feel sorry for, they came a year or two ago as volunteers paying all their own expenses, now money has given out and they are stranded. The majority don't know enough French to be useful in our work, the army doesn't want them, the canteen people won't support them, as they can get shoals of non-pay people and here they are, some very clever, capable girls. Just at present France is overstocked with army nurses. There has been so little fighting, some are being released to us, so far we have only landed one through the red tape but hope for more.

Paris, October 9, 1917.

To A. G.

I am going to send you at least a short letter before leaving for Evian, where we are opening a big "oeuvre," as it is called here; it is really a tremendous undertaking to get going all at once. We have a big villa there with smaller houses attached for the nurses homes, etc. The hospital and dispensary are to be there, the dispensary to be open both day and night, as one train comes in at night. The idea is that we are to examine the children physically when they arrive; poor little things, more for them to go through at the end of their long, tragic journey, but it seems necessary. They arrive in such filthy condition that they have to be fumigated before they can be touched. We are to have a beautiful convalescent home at Lyon, a gift to the city before the war,--- but which has never been opened. I am full of enthusiasm because I see hopes of organizing the work. If there are any available French nurses in San Francisco who speak French, do make them telegraph to Miss Noyes. I would prefer the French than all the public health experience in the world. Public health work is really out of the question here pro tem. I am picking up some nurses from the army, who have been over here three years.

Evian les Bains, October 12, 1917.

To L. McL.

Each time here in France you imagine that you have witnessed the depths of misery until you take the next step. It would be impossible for me with my poor descriptive powers to give you any picture of the arrival of the trains here twice a day bringing in "rapatriés" from Belgium. These poor creatures arrive 500 at a time night and morning. You can imagine how dirty and tired they are after three days and nights on the crowded trains, no sleeping accommodations, the trains filled with paralyzed and decrepit old people and babies and children, up to twelve years. This morning an Old People's Home arrived, 150 old men, mostly blind and paralyzed. I carried two paralytic children from the train. As the train approaches the station the women lean out, wave and shout, "Vive la France !"

We have eight American ambulances here to meet the trains so the march to the Casino is not so painful as it was. The poor people have taken these long painful journeys three times, first from their village to another French town, then to Belgium, from Belgium here, and now they say "What next?"

So many children get lost in the crowd and are so terribly frightened. A beautiful little girl arrived last night quite alone, a child of ten years, she was so pitifully frightened. It is little girls of that age that the horrors of war seem to have the worst effect on. It often stops their development. They have a strained, frightened look that is most pitiful. It is all wonderfully arranged for them here by the Lyons, a Madame Gilet Motte organized the whole thing. She came when they first began this business to meet her niece, and was so horrified at the tragedy of it all that she has worked day and night ever since for these poor creatures. After leaving the train they are taken to the Casino. Last night it was a heart rending sight to see this long black procession of refugees marching along the winding road laden with bundles and babies, just hobbling along.

The Casino is a huge place where they are all comfortably seated and fed. After dinner or breakfast as it may be the French official appears dressed in evening clothes, high silk hat and tricolor silk scarf with gold fringe around his waist, stands on a platform and makes a stirring speech of welcome, which is received with many tears and shouts of joy, and "Vive la France!" Then the national air is played by a band and the people march out to be ticketed. Each one wears a tag after that until he is finally placed, green tag for "no friends," pink for "relations expecting him somewhere in France," and white for "detained because of illness in his or her family.".. It is for the latter when it is a child that our hospital and convalescent home is being established. We have the most ideal villa, it was a hotel with modern plumbing. There are three buildings on the place which is on the edge of Lake Geneva. The first is a sort of outdoor pavilion, which will be an ideal place for the sun cure, a little higher up a nurses' home, a small house for servants and on the hill the hospital, which is ideal. We will commence with 100 beds. Mr. Cornelius Bliss is with us on this trip. He returns to Washington to report. He is very much impressed by everything. One would have a heart of stone not to be overcome. I don't know whether I will get to Lyons or not.

I only heard yesterday of Douglas MacMonagle's death. He died, shot through the temple in an air battle---very gallantly.

I wish I could get Frederica Otis over here. She would be a great help. The great difficulty we have is getting people to help with the children who speak French. Very few girls care to work with children, the blessés appeal more. For instance, Margaret Robins would be so much more help with children than in the military hospital. There are more people over here for that work than are needed, tell Miss Johnson this and tell her that if she doesn't speak French, she is useless in the children's work. Fortunately my work is organizing, so the French is not so important, I am really making progress.

Evian, October 14, 1917.

To A. G.

I feel so exhausted after my morning's experience that I doubt if I can write much of a letter. I thought yesterday that nothing could be sadder than the sight of these poor families landing at Evian, homeless, penniless, and forlorn, but with joy in their faces at being again in France. The invariable answer is, when you ask them if they are fatigued after their three days of frightful discomfort, "I was, but now I am in France, all fatigue is forgotten." The worst of it is their troubles are anything but at an end. The difficulty of finding them home is almost unsurmountable. When you think of 1,000 people of all helpless ages arriving in one small town every day, you can imagine what it means. If they are not quickly moved on the congestion is terrific, so trains moving them in and moving them out are always being met by a stream of people, nurses, attendants and ambulances. Our ambulance men are doing fine work lifting the helpless in and out of the trains and ambulances.

Later. On the Paris train, 8 a. m.

I began this letter yesterday, just after meeting the train filled with 680 Belgium children under 12 years. It. was the most tragic sight imaginable. Two-thirds of the children were taken from their parents and sent to France to be supported. The majority of the children arrived in a very excited, happy state of mind, shouting "Vive la France!" but many little girls wept bitterly. Little families with the little mother at the head clung together. They marched to the Casino where they were feted and given flags. After a good dinner, the Prefect made a speech of welcome, and then the National Anthem was played. You should have seen that mob of pathetic underfed, grimy, helpless infants, standing on the benches, waving their two flags violently and singing at the tops of their voices. It was a really heart-breaking sight, and quite too much for the older girls who put their heads in their arms and sobbed uncontrolably. These children were facing starvation and their mothers parted with them to save them. They leave Evian this evening to be scattered over France. The Belgian Government has charge of them. I was shocked to see many little boys of six or eight years marching by me calmly smoking cigarettes, and they were all given wine to drink at the dinner.

I left Evian last night at 6 p. m. and had a horrible night, six of us sitting up in a compartment without a breath of air, door and windows tight closed. In the middle of the night we were routed out for a customs examination. Some chocolate was found in my bag which caused much trouble, and in fishing for some money to pay the customs one franc, it was discovered that I had some incriminating letters, so I was marched off by a soldier to another place. My passports were demanded and I was shut up in a little room while the letters were examined. Of course they were nothing, but it was not comfortable as I was alone.

The Swiss frontier is to be closed for ten days. After that I understand the number of French coming in will be doubled.

Paris, October 15, 1917.

To C. A. S.

I arrived in Paris this morning, perfectly exhausted after sitting up all night fourteen hours in a closed compartment with five other people. We were lucky to get that, many slept on the floor in the corridor.

We are opening a Children's Hospital of 100 beds at Evian. If you could get people to make flannelette nightgowns for us, we would be delighted, direct to Children's Hospital, Evian les Bains, Switzerland, care of American Red Cross. I think I wrote you that one thousand French people from the north of France, who had been deported to Belgium five months ago, arrive daily at Evian. It is a peculiar task to find lodgings for them, after a night or two at Evian and then find homes or friends for them all over France. The majority of them are perfectly helpless people, tiny babies carried oftentimes by sixteen-year-old mothers, Boche babies of course. This has been going on since last February, 500 at 6:30 a. m. and 500 at 7 p. m. French women meet the trains, help the sick and feeble of whom there are many ambulance loads. As you look at this tragic sight poor creatures laden with their pitiful all, baskets filled with strange treasures, you find that it is the survival of the unfit; Germany's gift to France. To add horror to horror, on Sunday 680 Belgium children arrived, some of them were orphans but the majority of them have been taken from their families because their fathers have refused to work for the Germans. The poor little things arrived tired and forlorn after a three days' trip, but shouting at the top of their voices, "Vive la France!" French ladies distributed chocolates to them at the train and then they marched to the Casino, many of the boys singing but the little girls were frightened and many of them wept. They had a dinner of meat and potatoes, which they considered a great treat with roasted chestnuts, chocolate and wine for dessert. Then the band played their national hymn, which they sang, waving French and Belgium flags, except those who were so overcome by the music that they put their heads on the table and wept. I have never been so overcome in public in my life, men and women sobbed is was so dreadful. The children were fairly well dressed but looked under-fed. Mr. Cornelius Bliss made the trip with us, he is on the War Council at Washington. He was very much moved. Our doctor examined all these children during the afternoon, any ill children who come in the future will go either to our hospital or convalescent home. I return Friday to Evian with eleven nurses, I will be there for about two weeks and organize the work. Everything we do here is very difficult as we have to satisfy the French as well as ourselves.

Hopital pour enfants, Hotel du Chatelet,
Evian des Bains, Haute Savoie, France.
October, 1917.

To A. G.

I am putting on the above address in case you have anything to send for the children. As I wrote, flannelette nightgowns will be our great need. I am having a holiday; this is such a beautiful place, at present with no bad sights, as the rapatrié flood has stopped until November 1st, and our hospital has not yet opened. While writing to you, I am listening with one ear to a man who lived in Russia for 25 years, the Czar's dentist, an American, he says that our commission made no impression on Russia. He says that Russia idolizes Roosevelt. It is most interesting to hear his tales of the revolution. He was in Petrograd all through it, the truth is that it was anything but a bloodless revolution. Although the Russian news is bad, the general belief here is that Germany will gain nothing by taking Petrograd, just a longer front to guard.

We took such a wonderful walk yesterday, about ten miles up in the hills behind the Chatelet, almost to the snow line. I have never seen more beautiful autumn foliage, you can imagine it against the snow on one side, the reflection in the lake on the other, the air is so wonderful that you can walk all day without fatigue. I came here with an awful cold and already feel like a new person. I will be here for two weeks.

I had two letters from you the night I left Paris, I read them at 3 a. m. standing under a lamp in the corridor of the train.

We have such a fine set of young fellows here, I am fond of them all; our new nurses from America are a particularly fine set of girls. I am wondering and wondering if this is to be a thirty-years' war.

Evian les Bains, October 29, 1917.

To A. G.

Our hospital opened yesterday with a measles case. Every one was excited and ran around. It was quite amusing. Every one said before we opened that it would be difficult to persuade the mothers to part with their children. But already we find that we are being swamped with children. These poor rapatriés seem to have such faith in the Americans that they trust us implicitly.

We have such an interesting nurse here; she has been three years in Serbia and Macedonia. She had typhus twice, there were only two nurses in the hospital; they both had typhus and were nursed by Austrian prisoners. I think she must be the nurse Miss Burke described who found the Serbian boys and marched hundreds of miles with them. Thirty thousand of these boys between the ages of eight and eighteen were enrolled in an army and marched out of Serbia in order to save them. Only 6,000 reached their destination, the rest died of starvation en route. Miss Simmonds is very enthusiastic over the Serbs; she liked the Russians very much, too; she came into intimate contact with the men of six armies; it was a tremendous experience.

Just before leaving Paris I had a most wonderful present; it was a lace sofa cushion made by a French soldier in a hospital. I visited the hospital and admired this lace very much, which one of the men was making. All of the men in the ward were making lace; they had patterns before them which they were copying. The Mother Superior of the place had it made up for me. I think it is so pathetic to see these strong men turned into lace makers.

I wish you would interest some one in making caps for our children to wear when they are being disinfected, it is very necessary.

We did have such a wonderful trip to Chamonix; arrived there in the first snow storm of the season; it was like a fairy scene---so many trees laden with huge red berries and these covered with snow. The autumn foliage is so beautiful---it makes such a wonderful contrast in the snow. It was hard to realize we were there really because of the war.

I inspected a hotel en route which Dr. Lucas is thinking of for a convalescent home, it is most unsuitable, I think. He has not seen it and probably won't go there after my report.

We are to have a convalescent home near Lyons. I am delighted with our nurses, an unusually fine set of women.

Lyons, November 1, 1917.

To L. McL. and C. A. S.

My present life seems to deal in the unexpected even more than my life at home. After spending a week at Evian helping to organize the new hospital which is open now with twenty patients (we have room for one hundred but no more will come until the rapatriés begin to arrive again), I left for Lyons where we are to have a convalescent home for children. There is a wonderful young woman here who organized all this rapatrié work, Madame Gillet Motte. She became interested in it through meeting one of her young relatives who was sent through, she found the child utterly forlorn, dirty, covered with vermin and unattended by an adult. Madame Gillet's family is very rich. She comes from the north of France. Her father and mother are hostages now, they have been held as such for two and a half years. Well, Madame Gillet undertook the care of all the children who arrive separated from their parents, also the orphans. She has had thousands in her care, at present she has on her hands 1,200 who have not yet been connected with anyone. She has them scattered all over in houses of about 60 beds in each.

Just to give you an idea of some of her troubles, diphtheria developed in one house last week, seven of the children died and at present about forty of them are down with it. The seven died because of bad hospital care, all of the decent medical men are in the army.

Dr. Lucas expects to turn the German Consulate into a hospital for children, it is next door to the Gillet home.

On my arrival at Lyons I found to my surprise that Dr. Lucas had arrived the same day from Paris with Dr. Richard Cabot, Mr. Devine and half a dozen other doctors. I was so glad to see Dr. Cabot, he is to join our forces and we need him badly. The arrival of that big party has interfered awfully with my work, as we have had to meet the Mayor, be entertained, etc. Yesterday we drove out to the chateau which was left by a rich old lady for a convalescent home for children. I was astounded when I got there to drive through the most beautiful woods, and at the top of the hill find a palace! You never saw such a place, 56 rooms besides the lodge and a central heating system. It is high and overlooks a beautiful country. We found three old servants in charge, all of whom I promptly engaged, to relieve their minds. The butler has been with the family forty-nine years. The house is full of wonderful old carved furniture, tapestries, etc., which belong now to the grandsons who are in the army. I shall select several big rooms and store them pro tem. A housekeeper and assistant arrived this a. m. from Paris, and we shall go to the chateau tomorrow and I will stay with them there a few days to plan it. We have the nurses, the beds are ready and this A. M. I will buy sheets and blankets. Children's nightgowns are our biggest problem, and while I think of it, I am crazy for some caps such as we use at the Farm for disinfecting heads, just a mob cap made of gingham, pink probably, with good quality elastic in it. Do get some one busy making these.

Lyons, Chateau des Halles, November 4, 1917.

To A. G.

Here I am installed in a palace with a total and entire stranger (Mrs. Holzman), and a French architect as my sole companions. Dr. Lucas left us here yesterday after going over the place in a very formal way, accompanied by a number of French politicians, all dressed in black, long coats and high hats. It was just like a funeral procession and the house certainly did seem impossible for the moment. But after a delicious lunch prepared by the Chateau's cook and served by the maitre d'hotel, we felt encouraged to go ahead.

We have really worked out a very good, feasible plan, which practically shuts off half of the house which is not heated. This place is really a palace, 56 rooms without counting farm houses, stables, etc., 300 acres. It was given to the city of Lyons by an old woman who gave it in a time of mental depression. Nothing could be more unsuitable than it is for a children's home. It is built in the style of 50 years ago, perfectly hideous, huge rooms with ceilings three stories in height. We can put 27 beds in the dining room. Mrs. Holzman, who is here with me, is a treasure, a queer combination of artist (a singer), and very practical, has run girls' camps in the Adirondacks.

We have planned all kinds of things for this place including an Xmas entertainment for the village children, and district nursing---there are any number of little villages near by and not a doctor. Mrs. Holzman is a very capable woman. We can't really do anything towards getting the chateau in order until the heir to the furniture arrives and selects what he wants. It is awfully pathetic, the house is full of relics of the past with no one to claim them. One stumbles across children's building blocks, uniforms of the young officer who went down in a submarine, and all kinds of little things which make one realize how uncertain life is, to think that these precious mementos are being put aside by strange Americans.

Monday.

There is a beautifully kept farm in connection with the place, 17 cows, chickens, which of course pleases me, hot houses, rose gardens, walled fruit and heavens knows what. I didn't take time to really investigate it all.

We returned to Lyons in order to see Dr. Lucas before his return to Evian. He was delighted with our plan for the arrangement of the house, which really is very good. We all dined together. The young doctor arrived, who is to have charge of the place.

Paris, November 10, 1917.

To L. McL. and C. A. S.

You can imagine my disappointment when I returned from Lyons after a three weeks' absence to find that I had missed a visit from Loyall, I felt like crying. One of the hardest things over here is that we are so cut off from those we love. It is a comfort to me to know that Dick and Loyall are on the same continent with me. My birthday letter to Dick arrived on the day of his birthday and the cigarettes right after, which seemed to please him.

So many of the big doctors are arriving here from home that I am wondering if there are any left. You both write about children's clothes so I am going to answer together: We need bloomers for all ages up to 12 years: rompers, mob caps (with good elastic) for disinfecting heads; aprons, high neck, long sleeves, NOT black; woolen stockings if possible, for winter; flanelette night gowns, all sizes to 10 years; sweaters, dark colors to pull over the head, with sleeves; woolen dresses (could be made of old material). I want a large supply of boys' overalls but I think I will have to have them made here. I am determined to introduce our overall to the French boy. The black satine apron he wears with heavy wood soled shoes is enough to discourage any boy from having a good rough game. The children rarely play hard. I have watched them carefully all over France; now I have decided that their dress has much to do with it.

Madame Gilet is enthusiastic over the overall idea and has begged me for a pattern which she will have made out of khaki in her husband's factory. It is the ideal garment for the sun treatment, just cut the trousers very short and there you are with a perfectly modest, simple garment. Half of the French boys in Paris have already discarded the apron for the boy scout uniform, introduce the overall and the nation is reformed!

I think I have made enough suggestions to last some little time, keep you all busy for the winter knowing that neither of you have anything to do but make children's clothes for me, but be sure that you carefully mark anything you send to the "Children's Hospital," Evian les Bains, Hotel Chatelet of American Red Cross.

I was glad to leave Lyons, it is the most doleful city I ever was in, worse than Chicago, the same atmosphere, black and grimy, the sun never shines there. It really should be very beautiful, as it has two big rivers flowing through it, and lovely hills around, but the factory smoke combined with the river fogs casts a gloom over everything.

Tomorrow I begin lessons with a French Countess who is a very sweet, attractive woman, whom Dr. Lucas has given a position as translator in our office, although she speaks little English. I worked out a French method which I thought would help her English and my French at the same time. For instance, "Everyone" "Tout le monde," she was to read the English and I the French. When I suggested this she said, "No, it is impossible, for you do not speak English, you speak American." Well, I let that pass without argument, saying, "Perhaps not, but our written English is the same, we learn from the same literature." "Ah!" she replied, "mais les Anglais n'ont pas une literature." When I tell this story to an English woman she laughs heartily at the first part and I am sure agrees, but when I finish the story she is way up in the air and furious. It is quite amusing to watch their "re-action" as Dr. Lucas would say.

I have met a type of English man and woman whom 1 find most congenial and admire very much, "The Friends." They, without question, continue to do, and have done the best work in France since the beginning of the war. Men and women, they turn their hand to whatever comes. A fine young fellow is at this very moment installing the new plumbing for us in the chateau near Lyons. He has become an intimate friend of the priest in the village where he is working and keeps his organ in repair for him.

Dr. Hilda Clark is the moving spirit of the society. She lives at this club, The Lyceum, when she is in Paris so I know her well. She is ill now and in England.

Paris, November 12, 1917.

To E. E. S.

Last week I was at Lyons en route for Paris from Evian-les-Bains, where we have a wonderful hospital for children. I spent a night at Chamonix and thought of you. Isn't it beautiful there? We arrived in a slight snowstorm, just enough to make the place look like a fairy scene; the trees were all bright red or yellow, some with huge bunches of red berries hanging from them; you can imagine the effect in the snow. But I am a hoodoo traveling. I seem a suspicious character. I am always held up. The last time I came through Bellegarde I was arrested twice, at midnight, too, just for smuggling chocolate. No one told me it was dutiable and after I had shown my passports, paid duty, explained, etc., it was discovered that I was carrying letters through to Paris, another excitement.

I was shut up in a small room, scared to death and expecting to be put through the third, degree when I was smilingly released. Well, last week I avoided all these sins but when I showed my passport, they shook their heads, asked if I had come from Switzerland and put me aside for further investigation. It makes one so nervous as I hear so many stories of women being put up against a wall and shot. Think of that happening to Auntie! I have come to the conclusion that the trouble all lies in the fact that I was born in Stockton. That place has always been a curse to me. I believe they see Stockton and think Stockholm. When my bag was opened last time a woman inspector accused me of carrying quantities of tobacco; it was really only packages of punk, which I assured her were to warm my feet with! After much smelling and almost chewing, she was persuaded to let it through without duty. It sounds very funny afterwards but I assure you it is no joke to be yanked out of line at midnight, and it always is midnight, to be investigated by three excited Frenchmen in, a strange tongue. I don't attempt to make explanations. I just repeat "Non Suisse, je suis ete a Evian." They almost shake me sometimes, but I feel helpless before the mystery of my passport, carnet rouge, identification cards, etc. I just hand them out and let them talk. An English speaking Frenchman came to the rescue last night and showed them how foolish they were.

I was traveling on a military transportation and all that fuss! But I evidently have the countenance of a spy and a plotter.

I am sending the above which I wrote to Dick McLaren. I thought Mr. Sloss would be amused at my adventures. The most extraordinary things happen to me. Every time I return from a trip the entire office hangs on my words as I always have something queer happen to me. But events march so rapidly here that one event quickly pushes another into the background and I fear much of interest will be forgotten before my return, which at present looks far in the future. These are very black days but everyone here is so cheerful and philosophical that I won't write a gloomy letter---we simply must bear what comes.

Wednesday.

The news is so discouraging this morning that I can think of nothing else. The guns are turned on Venice, it is really unbearable. There is every prospect that I will go to Rome soon with Dr. Lucas. Two of our staff leave for Italy tonight to take a look, we never say the word "survey."

We are turning the German Consulate at Lyons into a Children's Hospital, a good use to make of it.

It would make your heart ache to see the little rapatriés arrive at Evian on Lake Geneva. We have a children's hospital there of one hundred beds. Twelve hundred of these poor people arrive every day, carrying their poor pitiful little treasures under their arms. Of course the most tragic ones are those who are separated from their families. I saw with my own eyes six hundred and eighty Belgian boys and girls come through, two-thirds of whom had been taken from their mothers, you can't imagine the pathos of the scene of their arrival. I just lifted up my voice and wept. I really saw red and for the first time felt that I would like to be behind a gun and do all the damage I could to the soulless destroyer of home and family. This war on helpless babes is too much, just think of our children's refuge at Toul, where we have given shelter to four hundred and fifty children under eight years of age. We have been obliged to put up black curtains at all the windows so that the night lights kept burning in the wards will not be seen by the German air planes, they select by preference hospitals and children's refugee camps, isn't it unbelievable!

We are gathering around us here such a line set of men and women, but I can't help realizing when I see them arrive how deeply they will be missed and needed at home, the world supply of such people is not enough to go round.

My two dear nephews are over here and I can't decide which is the finer, so different in type, both Bayards, "sans peur, et sans reproche." Think that each may at any moment meet his end and all for what? Liberty and truth, I hope.

I love to think of your peaceful country life, working side by side with your dear children, conserving the fruits of the earth, not destroying them. It is so heartbreaking to see all the orchards which have been ruthlessly destroyed by the retreating enemy, and now beautiful Italy is to be destroyed. I really can think of nothing else today, it is uppermost in my thoughts.

Paris, November 15, 1917.

To A. G.

I hope to visit the "Friends" place at Chalons before my return. I am more impressed with them than with any people over here. They really show the fruit of Christian teaching, and they refuse to fight; as men and women they are a devoted band. The women make this club their Paris headquarters, so I see quite a little of them. They all show a spiritual quality which I see in no other English or Americans. These people have certainly suffered for their faith, for I think they had a hard time in England at first; now everyone respects their splendid work. Dr. Lucas has backed them up in every way; he is sending doctors to them now, and I hope later on I can get them nurses as well.

The trouble about Christianity it seems to me is, that we choose the part of Christ's teaching which suits our convenience and leave the rest. There are few who are ready to really lay down their lives for their faith.

I stumbled across another settlement in Paris just by chance. The moving spirit is Mdlle de Rose, a descendant of an uncle of Jeanne d'Arc. Her mother is a duchess, very wealthy, influential people. Mdlle de Rose conceived the idea twelve years ago of going into a poor quarter of Paris to live. She has been teaching every week in a sewing school in this quarter, the 5th arrondissement, near the Latin quarter. The friend under whom she was working died, leaving her work to her as a legacy. She left home (an unheard of thing in France) and there she has lived ever since, contributing every penny of her income to her work. She has built quite a wonderfully planned tenement, she does not know it is a "model tenement"; a home for working girls, also wonderfully planned; conducts all kinds of recreational work; has a chorus of three hundred voices, and since the war has branched out into an Agricultural Home for Orphans. But before I get on to that subject, I must tell you of her trousseaux. When the girls go to work and leave her younger sewing classes, a trousseau is started for them. All the materials are provided for all kinds of under garments, bed linen, etc., which is left in a locker at the settlement. They have no name for their work and have never published a report, although large sums of money have been given them to spend. Mlle. de Rose has evolved from her own brain, common sense, experience and ingenuity, a wonderful placing out system for children. She forms families of not more than twelve, all ages, places them on a farm in charge of a motherly woman and there brings them up normally. These farms are self-supporting, all being under the direct, scientific management of a practical farmer. They bought the land and are rapidly paying off the mortgages on it. She has at present about twelve of these farm colonies under her supervision and is increasing them rapidly. Her right hand is a Miss Hopkins, an American woman who turns over her entire income to the place, and the day I saw her she was wearing rubber overshoes because she had no shoes. Their rule is never to ask others for money while they have a cent left of their own. As far as I could discover, it is the only rule they have. I have no doubt that 1 shall find many more French women of this same stamp, but they are so modest about what they do that it is difficult to unearth them.

It is this quality that appeals to me in the French more than any other; but it is really very inefficient in a way because they have no co-operation. I am sure that sixteen "oeuvres" as they call them, help one family, except that they do work in districts.

Read this letter to our circle if you think it will interest them. I hope they are sewing for my babies, do not kill yourselves over model kits, use what you have. I can see little difference between the clothes of the French children and our own, anything will do.

Nancy, November 23, 1917.

To A. G.

While waiting for Dr. Knox to make a formal call upon Madame Mirman, the prefect's wife, I hope to start a letter to you. We have had a fine trip together. After inspecting Toul, we came on to Nancy where we found a most cordial welcome. Monsieur Mirman, the prefect, is a very unusual man and so lovely and simple, as all really big people are. I wish you could have seen him stand before the infant class in one of his refuge schools and go through all the motions with the children, of one of those kindergarten songs---it was really touching---and so unconscious of our presence. He is so eager for our help for his dear children and most appreciative. I talked over with him the possibility of introducing play ground workers, and he jumped at the idea. We arranged for another series of dispensaries with a center from which to work at Luneville, we now have one at Nancy which is supported by the American Fund for French Wounded (Chicago), but under our supervision.

Dr. Brown had fifty patients in one small town yesterday and was obliged to turn away twenty. Our boys are camped all about here. Yesterday we saw one who was wounded and who had received the croix de guerre. All of his comrades were so proud of him. When I entered the ward filled with our wounded, a lump came into my throat, a different feeling from any one has when visiting other hospitals.

The most really shocking thing I have seen was in one of these towns which is constantly under shall fire. The little cemetery is a complete wreck. The graves have literally been rent asunder and the coffins lie exposed to the naked eye.

We visited a baker (a woman) who lives and bakes in a house the top of which is quite gone, just a mass of débris and the back all gone. The oven is still intact and when the bombardment is too severe she retires to her oven for protection!

She had a big bowl of chrysanthemums on the counter and a man next door was making delicious chocolate creams between bombardments, as it were. It is all so extraordinary.

Chalons-Sur-Marne, November 23, 1917.

Dr. Knox and I arrived here last night to inspect the Friends' work. They have a maternity hospital which they opened in December, 1914. You can't imagine anything more uncomfortable than the way in which they live, so over crowded, every inch given up to the babies. I consider Miss Pye a real heroine, and such a sweet, lovely, gentle woman, with big black intelligent eyes. Dr. Lucas has been so impressed by her. He has got the Red Cross to give them lots of money. We are financing a "baby house" for them, an old chateau where refugee babies under 3 years are kept.

Dr. Knox is thrilled by his trip, the first he has seen of the war zone. He is to have this district under his care. A series of First Aid stations will be established all along the line with hospitals in the rear to send the really sick to. I feel so hopeful for the future of this district. We will do real district work now. I think I wrote you that the traveling shower was ours!

Lyons, November 30, 1917.

To L. McL.

I have just come in from our convalescent home 30 miles from Lyons. It is in beautiful order. I was quite surprised to find what had been accomplished in three and a half weeks, plumbing installed, walls protected very cleverly, carpets up, floors polished; in fact, an inconveniently arranged palace made into a comfortable hospital because the children there are not really convalescent. It is such a pleasure to see the children installed, to have that impossible place put to such a good use. We have there a splendid co-operative set of workers, all pulling together.

Little Hannah Hobart is getting on well and happily at Evian, she is a little trump.

Lyons, December 1, 1917.

To E. E. S.

Just a line to wish you all the blessings of the season. This is not intended to be a letter, just a greeting, as I feel that I must be in touch with my best friends at this time.

I have just come from our convalescent home which is located in a palace, I call it, such a contrast to the Hill Farm, but not nearly so well fitted up for children's use, although as there are lovely woods close by, I am sure that the children will have a happy time there in the summer and this is to be a permanent place, so it is a pleasure to fit it up comfortably.

I am in Paris very little, just a few days at a time, but I have time on Sundays to see friends. I won't mar my Xmas letter by writing of gloomy things, so it must be brief as nothing is very cheerful heft at present, although the Germans seem to be checked in Italy. Our bureau may extend its activities to Rome, in which case I will probably be sent there, I don't mean permanently. My work is intensely interesting, in fact quite exciting, as I have to fly from one spot to another adjusting difficulties which are really generally very simple tangles which untrained people have become involved in. I am always welcomed with open arms which is a pleasant side of it, and have so far managed to be a traveling interference without being hated by everyone.

We have at present about 600 children under our direct care whom we house, feed and clothe, besides those under the care of the doctors and nurses in about ten dispensaries. We open a big welfare center in Paris January 1st with the Rockefeller Institute people, who are launching a big tuberculosis campaign.

Paris, December 11, 1917.

To A. G.

As I have a bad cold and cough fortunately it is Sunday. I shall go to the American church this morning. This certainly is a beastly climate; one day of sunshine in four weeks so far. Just damp, cold, thick black penetrating fog. I have had three bad colds since I left home, although otherwise I am very well.

Everyone here is busy over the soldier's presents. This club is the center of the packing. You can imagine what it means to get off 200,000 packages. I have been contributing nurses to the work, ten this week. It takes nurses or anyone in fact, about one week to get out of Paris after reaching here, so I have set them to work in the interim with the A. F. F. W., (Mrs. Lathrop), which is good for co-operation. I can often help in ways of that kind here where most of the R. C., although doing splendid work in their own pursuits, do not realize how much is going on outside. I chum with all kinds of people, exchanging ideas and workers with them. My cosmopolitan bringing up is very useful to me. It seems to me that San Francisco people have more ramifications than any other people in the world.

Evelyn Preston, Ralph Preston's daughter, is Miss Byrnes' chum. She is working awfully hard in Dr. Lambert's office. I think these young girls deserve a lot of credit for this hard office work they are doing, typing from morning to night.

I hope to have an Xmas Eve dinner for the young people and there is some chance that Dick may get off for it; and another dinner on Xmas Day for forlorn nurses who may be stranded in Paris. I will go to the American church in the morning, Madame Gotz has invited me to lunch. Major Murphy gathered us all together yesterday, the sixth months' anniversary of the starting of the Red Cross in France. It is really quite wonderful what has been accomplished, a herculean task has been undertaken and well organized. As he said, each of us sees only the defects of his part in the organization and can not see the result as a whole. I think we have accomplished in our bureau a great deal in the short time since it was organized, just four months. We have four hospitals and twelve dispensaries with about 15 doctors and 100 nurses and aides at work, besides the Paris office, which investigates and passes on the claims of every children's society in France, orphan asylum creches, etc. I am afraid this sounds boastful, but you can have no idea of the terribly discouraging times we have; the nurses nearly go mad with the difficulties, for instance, Dr. Baldwin At Nesle in the war zone has been running three dispensaries and a hospital for two months without gauze, alcohol, or night gowns. Fortunately, I have been able to supply things from time to time out of funds which have been sent me, in fact, I bought night gowns for the above place and put them in a nurse's trunk. Express simply never arrives in the war zone, except for the army.

Paris, Sunday, Dec. 15, 1917.

To A. G.

I have had such a quiet and uneventful week that there is very little to write you about today. Two American mails have come in without a letter from you though I am sure you have written. We seem to live only for the mails. We share our letters and are interested in those from total strangers.

I am going to drag the sadness out of Xmas day by having two dinners; one on Xmas Eve, one on Xmas day. One for Miss Byrne and the young people and the other for the nurses and any aides who may be here at that time. It is possible that Dr. Lucas may return on the 22d, unless he gets an extended leave from the U. C. Dr. Knox will carry out his plans, he straightened out my department which is now running like clockwork and everyone happy.

I must tell you one thing which we all feel pretty much the same about and that is our feeling about the war. We feel that in the future (I mean by next spring), if the war continues, all our efforts should be directed toward the men. I think it will be more and more difficult to get over here and those of us who are here must turn to, for our army. It is our first obligation. I do not know which I consider the most important; the social or nursing side of it. They are both vital. If the men are not looked after morally, what hope have we in the future of the race? Our men beg for help; they constantly stop me, a total stranger, on the street and beg me to do something. The Y. M. C. A. has taken hold splendidly, but the job is a gigantic one. I would not urge Dr. Blake to come over except in the spring with the army, then every available man will be needed.

Paris, December 26, 1917.

To Willing Circle.

Your "round-robin" was fine, it came about a week ago, but I played fair and didn't read a line until early Christmas morning. I was very lucky, because all my Xmas letters came on time, at least I think they did, but there may be more en route which I sincerely hope to be the case, as letters from home are my only consolation. You see no one really tells you the same things, so in order to get all the news you long for, you have to piece the news together.

It is really quite funny about the family news, each one takes so for granted that some one else has told the real item of interest that no one does anything but refer casually to it or if they do the letters all go down.

We have been quite worried about one of our doctors, Dr. Knox. He had an operation for appendicitis three days ago, is doing well, but we had quite a scare about him. We are like one big family here, it is really quite remarkable that so many people can be collected together so indiscriminately and work together so harmoniously. There are about twenty people in the Paris office and about one hundred and ten outside and all pulling together. In fact, you can feel proud, of our whole Red Cross organization over here. Of course mistakes are made and I have no doubt but lots more will be made, but we have two fine men at the head, Major Murphy and Major Perkins, and their spirit pervades the whole organization. I think they have accomplished marvels in the short space of time, just six months---we have been here four.

I am writing thus fully on this subject because I have no doubt but that you will hear much adverse criticism, but simply don't believe it. I have never seen harder working or more sincere people than are here in the Red Cross, and they are directed by men of a high order of intelligence. We all get discouraged at times, but at present Paris is very hopeful of the outcome of the war, victory and peace in the near future. We can at least all hold the thought.

You will most of you be interested to know that I went to the opera last Saturday night with Mrs. Colt, escorted by Willie Gwin, who is doing fine work with A. F. F. W. I have, by the way, joined the staff of the latter. I am to make inspections for them of French military hospitals which I will do when I pass them en route on my other inspections. This is an example of Red Cross co-operation with other societies.