February 28, 1915.
The poor man who was so very ill died on the morning of the twenty-third after three weeks of intense suffering—I stayed that night with him. The others are all out of danger with the exception of two who cannot get well—one is paralyzed and the other has tuberculosis.
I went to the village for the first time yesterday and was quite touched by the welcome I received at every little shop and house. The people seemed genuinely glad to have me back. They cannot seem to get over the fact that I have crossed the ocean twice and come back to them. To them the ocean is a thing of terror, especially since the war broke out. Doctor R—— has a great many sick people in the country about here to take care of in addition to the soldiers. In one house they had nothing to eat but potatoes, but he is a good deal like our dear old doctor, and feeds and clothes and takes care of them himself.