such circumstances. Well, I laughed. All I could think of was the sleek
people walking down Fifth Avenue, and the equally sleek crowds taking
tea at the Waldorf. It struck me as ludicrous that I, who had been one
of them, should be lying there lunchless. For a little while I was
slightly deaf with the concussions.

That poem keeps on going through my head,

Oh, to come home once more, when the dusk is falling,
To see the nursery lighted and the children's table spread;
"Mother, mother, mother!" the eager voices calling,
"The baby was so sleepy that he had to go to bed!"

Wouldn't it be good, instead of sitting in a Hun dug-out?

Yours lovingly,
CON.




XX

October 15th, 1916.

Dear Ones:

We're still in action, but are in hopes that soon we may be moved to
winter quarters. We've had our taste of mud, and are anxious to move
into better quarters before we get our next. I think I told you that