“Well, you see, sir,” said the maid, “the Zeps were reported and we were all ordered to the cellar for safety.”
“——!” ejaculated the American. “I was on the fifth floor and I wasn’t warned.”
“No, sir,” was the bland reply, “but you see, sir, you don’t come under the Employers’ Liability Act, sir.”
LETTERS FROM THE FRONT
“LAST evening we went out into a field, and read Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’ out loud.”
Do you get the picture? Can you see the fading glory of the sunset sky, and hear the soft breeze, sweetly laden with the scent of new-mown hay, as it murmurs through the gently rustling leaves—a real autumn scene of rural peace and quiet?
Yes? Well, you are quite mistaken. That is an extract from a letter written by an ambulance driver on the French front. And so you see that war is not all horror.
Emerson Low, the son of Alfred M. Low, of Detroit, went to France with a group of college boys. He joined the American Field Ambulance Service, and is now in the thick of the fighting in the Champagne district. The Detroit Free Press prints some extracts from his letters to his family. In one he tells of his trip to the posts: