The work continues to grow. Mrs. Sturgis is leaving us this next week, unfortunately, and we are all dividing up her duties. Work in the Food Department comes to me. I am both glad and scared. It will be interesting handing out the food and keeping the shop shelves supplied; but it requires lots of judgment to talk with the women each week, and decide when to stop giving them food, and to try to advise them on all sorts of questions. However, I am going to make a try at it. I think it is pretty nice of Mrs. Shurtleff to ask me to do it.
I ran across a new thing the other day: one of the families we were calling on showed us their linen,—sheets and underclothes,—which were completely yellowed and rotted by the asphyxiating gases! They fell to pieces when touched. Another result of this new kind of warfare. Sometimes when I see so many children sick and diseased through the results of their privations while under the German rule, I can’t help wondering what the coming generation will be like when they grow up. They have had such hideous childhood. Gas-mask drills at school, lack of food, no homes for many of them, and goodness knows no future.
Rootie and I are thinking of writing to the Mayor at Rheims to find out who it is that counts the number of shells falling in that town daily! It must be a splendid job, and the person who has it is delightfully accurate. Every day we see by the paper just how many thousand have fallen, except once, when they “fell so fast” it was impossible to keep count. How awful it is to make fun of it, and yet one has to make fun of something about this terrible, terrible war.
Betty Potter has given me my wonderful package. When I saw the wrapper and Daddy’s writing, and all the flags and ribbon, I just almost went to pieces, but Miss Whittier being with me, I couldn’t. I tore home, and didn’t go in to luncheon, but sat and read and read and read. Oh, you dear, dear people, how did you ever think of doing such a wonderful thing? It pleased and thrilled me so that I am still walking on air. And the money. Oh, we do need it so, particularly just now! I shall write every one slowly, as I get time, but will you just tell everybody what a wonderful time it gave me, and how I can’t possibly express myself? All I can say is, thank you, thank you all, over and over again. It was pretty mighty good of you.
I had already spent eighteen francs of Daddy’s money on a hot-water bottle for a poor dear old lady refugee, who is dying of cancer. It is only a question of time. Her two daughters care for her now. We have installed them, and are trying to make the end easier for them all. I found on one of my visits that they used a heated plate to give her relief when she had attacks in the night. The hot-water bottle is a great help, and they are pathetically grateful. I shall write you as to just what we do with all the money. Oh, you don’t know how much it means! The little pins have gone like lightning. It is so sweet to see the joy that they give the children. Incidentally the various “workers” have grabbed them also. Rootie is downtown this minute buying bright ribbons for the children. It will be too marvelous to have new ribbons to give them.
Mrs. Shurtleff is driving with Miss Curtis to the front, or rather the evacuated district, next week. She has an opportunity and is seizing it, you can be sure. If we get enough clothes from America these next few months and can afford it, we are going to establish a regular station, and deliver clothes per Ford every fifteen days, and I shall do the driving!!! To say that the idea thrills me barely describes it. Of course, she is taking Miss Curtis this time because she is older and is the head worker, but next time she will take me. I can’t tell you how I long to hear the guns and actually see some of the things that I have been hearing about for so long. It will be splendid.
The new jitney, having finally arrived, proves much more satisfactory than the old ambulance body. I will send you some pictures of it soon.
We live on our balcony now, for the spring has really come. We purchased a chaise-longue and cushions at nine dollars, and take turns lying out on it. The balcony is so small we can only have one. We are just at the height of the tree-tops, and now the leaves are out and the little garden in front of us in the Square has many Japanese apple trees. The air is lovely; with the moon at night, it is marvelous. We hate to go to bed at all.
I have got to stop now. Lots and lots of love to every one, and thank you again for the package of letters.
Marje.