avorably impressed with them.
At the Hotel Dieu, they had received seven hundred patients within
twenty-four hours. I think the saddest part was the eye ward, there were
so many who would never see again and some of them so young. There were
some with both legs gone and others both feet, and many with one arm or
leg missing.

The boats on the river that were fitted up as hospitals were very
interesting, but I fancy would be very hot in the summer and the
mosquitoes would be terrible.

Saturday I spent the day with Mademoiselle R----, who had been staying
at the Hotel at Divonne for a time. The R----'s are a wealthy family
who have lived in Lyons for generations. Mademoiselle was able to take
me to a good many of the hospitals, as they have done a good deal for
them. We visited them in the morning, which was much more interesting,
as we saw the work going on. At two of the hospitals wounded were
arriving when we left there, so we saw the whole thing. I also saw the
dressing being done in one of the large military hospitals. In the
afternoon we went to a "Red Cross" hospital, where she worked in the
lingerie; there are fifty beds and the patients are taken care of by the
sisters. They seemed to be very cheerful and well looked after.

Sunday morning I got up at 3.30 and took a train at 4.30 for Romans
where Mrs. C---- is working in a military hospital. At eight I arrived
at Tourons and had to walk from there to a small village called Tain,
where I got a tramway to Romans. I arrived at eleven, had my lunch on
the sidewalk before a cafe,--a most excellent meal for fifty cents. I
found Mrs. C---- at the convent, where she is staying; fortunately she
had the afternoon off. She has charge of the dressings and all of the
infected operations. At the hospital where she is they have forty
wounded Germans; they seem very contented and glad to be there. Mrs.
C---- says it is dreadful to do their dressings, for they have no
self-control at all; they have a certain dogged courage that makes them
fight as they do, in the face of certain death, but when they are
wounded they cannot stand the pain. The French, on the contrary, seldom
say a word; they will let one do anything, and if the pain is very bad
they moan occasionally or say a swear word, but I have never seen one
who lost control of himself and screamed.

I had dinner with Mrs. C---- at the convent, and at 7.15 took the train
for Valence where I changed and waited two hours