There was a professor and his wife who were trying to get a second-class ticket on a Holland-American boat, though they only had twenty-five dollars in their pockets. They trusted to luck for their ticket and their money. Good fortune favored them, for on their way from Berlin to Holland they met a Southern man, who helped them get their ticket and paid for it.

Every day dozens of young girls who had been studying abroad, and teachers off for a summer's holiday, presented themselves at the German Embassy, telling their hard-luck stories of how they were down to the last cent, and that they would have to be home by the time school opened.

Mrs. Gerard took care of many of these cases herself and saw to it that they were provided with third-class tickets.

At the hotel where I was stopping I met an American lady with three daughters. She said that they had enough funds to take them home in four weeks by the strictest kind of management. The mother and the two young girls had taken over the task of doing the family washing in the bathtub, while the eldest girl was earning one dollar a day for stenographic work at the Embassy. A little later I met two girls who had been in Hamburg. They managed to pay their board and part of their tickets by helping the council out there.

I soon found out that even with money in my pocket, it was hard to make money count, for when it came to getting change they would only give you paper money of small denominations. Gold was the only thing that spoke, and silver was as much at a premium as paper was worthless. I found many people who were going without their next meal because they could not get their paper money changed. I went on a shopping expedition for an hour one morning, just to get a hundred marks changed. I was told that thousands of Americans were stranded in Switzerland, who were without a dollar and without a ticket. As a friend wrote to me, "It is a pitiable sight to see so many of our American women and children, including artists, invalids, school teachers, and mothers with families, who have been educating their children in Switzerland, driven almost to destitution. They come back with tears in their eyes from Swiss banks, because the clerks try to find any possible flaw in their drafts and refuse to honor their letters of credit. Even the more generous of these bankers have only a few hundred dollars a week on which to do business.

"Those of us who are living in Swiss families and boarding houses are fortunate, for the Swiss people are intelligent to understand our predicament and to feel sorry for us. But many have been living in fashionable hotels, where the prices mounted immediately when tourists came piling in by the hundreds. These proprietors expect to have their bills paid weekly, which means that many of their guests are without a dollar. I am sure that more than one wealthy woman has parted with more than one handsome piece of jewelry to pay a week's board bill for herself and her children. The question uppermost in every one's mind is, "When will the Tennessee with its chest of two hundred million dollars arrive, voted by Congress for the relief of Americans?"

"I am sure that the greatest hardships are being known by those who have been living in the mountain resorts in Switzerland, where they have been cut off from all communication. I have seen a number of such people come staggering into our town carrying dress-suitcases, exhausted for want of food and sleep."

On our boat coming home there were a number of destitute cases, men and women without a dollar to their name. After a few days a committee of wealthy men got up a fund to help them out. The day before our boat landed a New York Citizens' Club sent word to our captain that they should look up the destitute cases and they should be provided with money when they reached New York. Among the cases presented some were worthy and some were not. One woman made her plea that she had been separated from her husband a few years before, as a reason for getting money, though she had plenty to take her home.

The American women had been made destitute by losing all their baggage and can count their material wealth in dress-suitcases. The first time I decided to start for Holland the railroads were allowing tourists to take their trunks with them, but two weeks later they said they would not be responsible for any baggage taken. The most daring took a chance, only to leave their luggage in the stations. I saw stations that were piled high with five thousand and more American trunks. Some of the people were fortunate to get their trunks to the frontier, only to lose them on the boundary line. My mother and I left eight trunks on the other side. These are divided between France and Germany. Still we are glad that they are distributed in this way, for however the war goes, we ought to get some of our belongings. On our boat I heard that there are nearly a hundred thousand American trunks in Paris and the same number in London. Unless these trunks are regained, many a woman will have to content herself with two dresses and one hat this winter.