day visit the
war-stricken countries of Europe she would be astonished at the great
developments of the work of caring for the wounded soldiers which she
inaugurated so long ago. Her fine example is being emulated to-day by
hundreds of thousands of brave women who are devoting themselves to the
wounded, the sick and the dying in countless hospital wards.

All too little is known of what these devoted nurses have done and are
doing. Some day the whole story will be given to the world; and the
hearts of all will be thrilled by stirring deeds of love and bravery. In
the meantime it is pleasing and comforting to catch fleeting glimpses of
a portion of the work as depicted in this sheaf of letters, now issued
under the title of "My Beloved Poilus," written from the Front by a
brave American nurse.

Two outstanding features give special merit to these letters. They were
not written for publication, but for an intimate circle of relatives and
friends. And because of this they are not artificial, but are free and
graceful, with homely touches here and there which add so much to their
value. Amidst the incessant roar of mighty guns; surrounded by the
wounded and the dying; shivering at times with cold, and wearied almost
to the point of exhaustion, these letters were hurriedly penned. No time
had she for finely-turned phrases. Neither were they necessary. The
simple statements appeal more to the heart than most eloquent words.

These letters will bring great comfort to many who have loved ones at
the Front. They will tell them something of the careful sympathetic
treatment the wounded receive. The glimpses given here and there, of
the efforts made by surgeons and nurses alike to administer relief, and
as far as possible to assuage the suffering of the wounded, should prove
most comforting. What efforts are made to cheer the patients, and to
brighten their lot, and what personal interest is taken in their
welfare, are incidentally revealed in these letters. For instance, "The
men had a wonderful Christmas Day (1916). They were like a happy lot of
children. We decorated the ward with flags, holly and mistletoe, and
paper flowers that the men made, and a tree in each ward."

How these letters bring home to us the terrible tragedy that is going on
far across the ocean. And yet mingled with the feeling of sadness is the
spirit of inspiration which comes from the thought of those brave men
who are offering themselves to maintain th