_3 January, Sunday._--I have had my usual rest and hot bath. I find I
never want a holiday if I may have my Sundays. I spent a lazy afternoon
in Miss Scott's room, she being ill, then went to Mr. Streatfield's
service, dinner, and the station. A new officer was on duty there, and
was introduced to the kitchen. He said, "Les anglais, of course. No one
else ever does anything for anybody."

I believe this is very nearly the case. God knows, we are full of
faults, but the superiority of the British race to any other that I know
is a matter of deep conviction with me, and it is founded, I think, on
wide experience.

_6 January._--I went to Adinkerke two days ago to establish a
soup-kitchen there, as they say that Furnes station is too dangerous. We
have been given a nice little waiting-room and a stove. We heard to-day
that the station-master at Furnes has been signalling to the enemy, so
that is why we have been shelled so punctually. His daughter is engaged
to a German. Two of our hospital people noticed that before each
bombardment a blue light appeared to flash on the sky. They reported
the matter, with the result that the signals were discovered.

[Page Heading: THE SHELLING GETS WORSE]

There has been a lot of shelling again to-day, and several houses are
destroyed. A child of two years is in our hospital with one leg blown
off and the other broken. One only hears people spoken of as, "the man
with the abdominal trouble," or "the one shot through the lungs."

Children know the different aeroplanes by sight, and one little girl,
when I ask her for news, gives me a list of the "obus" that have