is a little melancholy. Let us pray that in singleness and cheerfulness
of heart we may do our little bit of work.

[Page Heading: EXPEDITION TO DUNKIRK]

_23 December._--Yesterday I motored into Dunkirk, and did a lot of
shopping. By accident our motor-car went back to Furnes without me, and
there was not a bed to be had in Dunkirk! After many vicissitudes I met
Captain Whiting, who gave up his room in his own house to me, and slept
at the club. I was in clover for once, and nearly wept when I found my
boots brushed and hot water at my door. It was so like home again.

I was leaving the station to-day when shelling began again. One shell
dropped not far behind the bridge, which I had just crossed, and
wrecked a house. Another fell into a boat on the canal and wounded the
occupants badly. I went to tell the Belgian Sisters not to go down to
the station, and I lunched at their house, and then went home till the
evening work began. People are always telling one that danger is now
over--a hidden gun has been discovered and captured, and there will be
no more shelling. Quel blague! The shelling goes on just the same
whether hidden guns are captured or not.

I can't say at present when I shall get home, because no one ever knows
what is going to happen. I don't quite know who would take my place at
the soup-kitchen if I were to leave.

_25 December._--My Christmas Day began at midnight, when I walked home
through the moonlit empty streets of Furnes. At 2 a.m. the guns began to
roar, and roared all night. They say the Allies are making an attack.