as rough as the hardest
besom, and from their dress ("skipping over soldiers' faces with
breeches on, indeed!") to their corps there was very little left of
them.

[Page Heading: OUR TROUBLE WITH SPIES]

It wasn't really from the dog-in-the-manger spirit that the little woman
acted. The fact is that Belgians and French run the station together,
and they are all agreed on one thing, which is, that no one but an
authorised and registered person is to come within its doors. Heaven
knows the trouble there has been with spies, and this rule is absolutely
necessary.

Two Red Cross khaki-clad men have been driving everywhere in Furnes, and
have been found to be Germans. Had we permitted itinerant workers, the
authorities gave notice that the kitchen would have to close.

In the evening, when I went to the station, another knickerbockered lady
sat there! I told her our difficulties, but allowed her to do a little
work rather than hurt her feelings. The following day Miss ---- engaged
in deadly conflict with the lady who had sent our unwelcome visitors.
Over the scene we will draw a veil, but we never saw the knickerbockered
ladies again!

_31 December, 1914._--The last day of this bad old year. I feel quite
thankful for the summer I had at the Grange. It has been something to
look back upon all the time I have been here; the pergolas of pink
roses, the sleepy fields, the dear people who used to come and stay with
me, and all the fun and pleasure of it, help one a good deal now.

Yesterday was a fine day in the middle of weeks of rain. When I came
down to breakfast in the Joos' little kitchen I remarked, of course, on
the beauty of the weather. "What a day for Taubes!" said Monsieur Max,
looking up at the clear blue sky. Before I had left home there was a
shell in a street close by, and one heard that already these horrible
birds of prey had been at work, and had thrown two bombs, which
destroyed two houses in the Rue des Trefles. The pigeons that circle
round the old buildings in Furnes always seem to see the Taubes first,
as if they knew by sight their hateful brothers. They flutter disturbed
from roof and turret, and then, with a flash of white wings, they fly
far away. I often wish I had wings when I see them.

I went to the station, and then to the hospital for slippers for some
wounded men. Five aeroplanes were overhead--Allies' and German--and
there was a good deal of firing. I was struck by the fact that the nigh