me perfect. I visited specially
the splendidly conducted surgical pavilion and the typhoid pavilion.

"The white-washed walls have been decorated by direction of the nurses
with great friezes of color, producing a charming effect which ought
to please the eyes of our beloved sick.

"I visited also the laboratory where they showed me the chart of the
typhoid patients--the loss so high in 1914--so low in 1915. I noted
down some figures which I give here for those who are interested in
the question of anti-typhoid vaccine: In November 1914, 379 deaths. In
November 1915, 22! What a new and wonderful victory for French
science! I must add that three of our nurses have contracted typhoid
fever; none of them was inoculated; twenty who were inoculated caught
nothing.

"While we were making this visit, we heard the whistle which announced
the arrival of taubes--we wanted very much to remain outside to see,
but we were ordered to go in; I observed that our nurses obeyed the
order because of discipline, not on account of fear. 'We can only die
once!' one of them said to me, shrugging her shoulders. Their chief
concern is for the poor wounded. Many of them now that they are in
bed, powerless to defend themselves, become nervous at the approach of
danger. They have to be reassured. If the shelling becomes too heavy,
they carry them down into the cellars.

"These taubes having gone back this time without causing any damage,
we set off for Savonnieres, a field hospital of about three hundred
beds, established in a little park. It is charming in summer, it may
be a little damp in winter, but the nurses do not complain; the nurses
never complain!

"Saturday was the most interesting day of my trip. I saw two field
hospitals between Bar-le-Duc and Verdun. Oh! those who have not been
in the War Zone cannot imagine the impression that I received on the
route which leads 'out there,' toward the place where the greatest,
the most atrocious struggle that has ever been is going on. All those
trucks by hundreds going and coming from Verdun; those poor men
breaking stones, ceaselessly repairing the roads, the aeroplane bases,
the depots of munitions, above all the villages filled with troops,
all those dear little soldiers, some of them fresh and clean, going,
the others yellow with mud returning--all this spectacle grips and
thrills you.

"We breakfasted at Chaumont-sur-Aire; I cannot say how happy I was to
share, if only for an hour, th