of September 6th, 1914, the Germans arrived at
our village with their ammunition. One would have thought the Last
Judgment was about to begin. All the inhabitants were hiding in their
houses. I was hiding in the attic, but, desirous to see a German, I
was looking through a little window in the roof. Nobody in the house
dared to go to bed. It was already very late when we heard knocks at
the door of our shop. It was some Germans who wanted to buy chocolate.
Some paid but the majority did not. They left saying, 'Let us kill the
French.' The following morning they marched away toward France. In the
evening one heard already the big guns in the distance.

"Turned out of France the Germans came to St. Eloi, where they
remained very long. Then they advanced to Ypres. The whole winter I
heard the rumbling of the big guns, and the whistling of the shells. I
learned also every day of the sad deaths of the victims of that awful
war. I was often very frightened and I have been very happy to leave
for France with my companions."

While I was in Paris the refugee children, of course, were from the
invaded districts of France; the Belgian stream had long since ceased.
Already twelve hundred little victims of the first months of the war,
both Belgian and French, either had been returned to their mothers or
relatives by the Franco-American Committee, or placed for the
educational period of their lives in families, convents, or boys'
schools. The more recent were still in the various colonies
established by Mrs. Hill and the other members of the Committee, where
they received instruction until such time as their parents could be
found, or some kind people were willing to adopt them.

It was on my first Sunday in Paris that Mr. Jaccaci and Mrs. Hill
asked me to drive out with them to Versailles and visit a sanitorium
for the children whose primary need was restoration to health. It was
on the estate of Madame Philip Berard, who had contributed the
building, while the entire funds for its upkeep, including a trained
nurse, were provided by Mrs. Bliss.

Versailles was as green and peaceful as if a few miles away the shells
were not ripping up a field a shot. After lunch in the famous hotel
ordinarily one of the gayest in France at that time of the year, we
first visited the rest hospital of Miss Morgan, Miss Marbury and Miss
de Wolfe, and then drove out into the country to Madame Berard's
historical estate. Here, in the courtyard of a