himself might have been sorry for them. Wee things in splints, or with
their curly heads bandaged; tiny mites, looking with wonder at their
hands swathed in linen; babies with their tender flesh torn, and older
children crying with terror. There were two tiny things seated opposite
each other on a big stretcher playing with dolls, and a little
Christmas-card sort of baby in a red hood had had its mother and father
killed beside it. Another little mite belonged to no one at all. Who
could tell whether its parents had been killed or not? I am afraid many
of them will never find their relations again. In the general scrimmage
everyone gets lost. If this isn't frightfulness enough, God in heaven
help us!

On the platform was a row of women lying on stretchers. They were
decent-looking brown-haired matrons for the most part, and it looked
unnatural and ghastly to see them lying there. One big railway
compartment was slung with their stretchers, and some young men in
uniform nursed the babies. I shall never forget that railway compartment
as long as I live. A man in khaki appeared, thoughtful, as our people
always are, and brought a box of groceries with him, and sweet biscuits
for the children, and other things. Thank Heaven for the English!

At the hospital it was really awful, and the doctors were working in
shifts of twenty-four hours at a time.

I left my tables, chairs, trays, etc., for the hospital at the station,
and returned early the next day, for numbers of wounded were still
coming in. I wanted slippers for everyone, but my Belgian helpers had
given a hundred pairs of mine away in my absence. They were overworked a
little, I think, so I overlooked the fact that they lost their tempers
rather badly. Besides, I will _not_ quarrel. In a small kitchen it