never faltered, while the same spirit of uncomplaining suffering
animated the refugees. 'Mr. McDowell,' so the diarist relates, 'saw a
tired and weary woman with a baby in her arms, sitting in one of the
seats, and said to her, "Where do you stay?" She said "Just here." "How
long have you been here?" "Since the beginning." (two months) she
replied. "How do you sleep at night?" "I lay the baby on the desk in
front of me, and I have this post at the back to lean against. This is a
very good place. Thank you very much."'

In April there comes a break in the diary after the day on which the
following entry is made:--

'I felt on Sunday as if I ought to get my own burial clothes ready, so
as to make as little trouble as possible when my time comes, for in
these days we all go about our work knowing that any one of us may be
the next to go down. And yet I think our friends would be surprised to
see how cheerful we have kept, and how many occasions we find for
laughing: for ludicrous things do happen. Then, too, after dwelling so
intimately with Death for three months, he doesn't seem to have so
unfriendly an aspect, and the "Other Side" seems near, and our Pilot
close beside us.... I find the Rock on which I can anchor in peace are
the words of Christ Himself: "Where I am, there ye may be also." ...
That is enough, to be where He is....'

Then comes a break of two months, during which the writer was down with
typhoid. She resumes again in June, finding that death has made many
changes, and gets back to work again at once. By that time the Russians
had entered Urmia, a thanksgiving service was held, the refugees
dispersed, and the American Mission went quietly on with its normal
work.