Thirty-three men go off to-morrow, some of them cured and back to the front, some who will never be better, and some to go home on convalescence.
To-day the florist in the village sent a clothes basket full of roses to the Ambulance for the fete. I thought of you and wished you could have some.
September 5, 1915.
Thanks for the money you sent from a friend in your last letter. I will use it wisely and make it go as far as possible. There will be more suffering this winter than there was last, but they are so brave, these people, they seldom complain of anything.
There is a little woman here whose husband was killed. She makes twenty cents a day selling papers and gets ten cents a day pension. She has three children, the eldest a girl of twelve. I got her a good pair of boots the other day and warm underclothes for the other children. She was so grateful.
Don’t worry about me. My expenses are very small, I have not bought any clothes and do not need any this winter.
To-day they had a big concert in the hotel, the proceeds go to the Ambulance.
We have had an awful week of rain and cold, but hope for a little more sunshine to thaw us out.
Our good doctor is going to be married next month. I am so glad, for he lives all alone and needs some one to look after him.
I shall have to go to bed to get warm. There is no heat in this house and when it rains it is like an ice box.