of soup and
drains.

How describe it all? The dear sense of guilt first, and then the still
dearer British soldiers, all ready with some cheery, cheeky remark as
they sat in carts under the wet trees. They were our brethren--blue-eyed
and fair-haired, and with their old clumsy ways, which one seemed to be
seeing plainly for the first time, or, rather, recognising for the first
time. It was all part of England, and a day out. The officers were
taking exercise, of course, with dogs, and in the rain. We are never
less than English! To-morrow we may be killed, but to-day we will put on
thick boots, and take the dogs for a run in the rain.

[Page Heading: AT POPERINGHE]

Poperinghe was deserted, of course. Its busy cobbled streets were quite
empty except for a few strolling soldiers in khaki, and just here and
there the same toothless old woman who is always the last to leave a
doomed city. At the typhoid hospital we gravely offered the cases of
milk which we had brought with us as an earnest of our good conduct, but
even the hospital was nearly empty. However, a secretary offered us a
cup of tea, and in the dining-room we found Madame van den Steen, who
had just returned to take up her noble work again. She was at Dinant, at
her own chateau, when war broke out, and she was most interesting, and
able to tell me things at first hand. The German methods are pretty well
known now, but she told me a great deal which only women talking
together could discuss. When a village or town was taken, the women
inhabitants were quite at the mercy of the Germans.

Continuing, Madame van den Steen said that all the filthiness that could
be thought of was committed--the furniture, cupboards, flowerpots, and
even bridge-tables, being sullied by these brutes. Children had their
hands cut off, and one woman, at least, at Dinant was crucified. One's
pen won't write more. The horrors upset one too much. All the babies
born about that time died; their mothers had been so shocked and
frightened....

Of Ypres Madame said, "It smells of lilac and death." Some Englishmen
were looking for the body of a comrade there, and failed to find it
amongst the ruins of the burning and devastated town. By seeming chance
they opened the door of a house which still stood, and found in a room
within an old man of eighty-six, sitting placidly in a chair. He said,
"How do you do?" and bade them be seated, and when they exclaimed,
aghast at his being still in Yp