Over Periscope Pond

anuary 2

st Fa

ne. Sometimes I don't feel like getting out a bolt of wrapping-paper and beginning at the extreme end, and tha

heir way to him from Mrs. Shurtleff and me respectively. Mrs. Shurtleff would like to know the name of the dealer who gave the thirty-three dollars discount, to write him a note also. As for lettering, we shall have

was very quick, as we count on six weeks for cases. I was as excited as a colt and went at it with hammer and tongs-in this case an old rusty axe and a pair of pinchers-and pulled forth joyfully the shirts, coats, and all the things. Certainly Mother does send jim-dandy th

. The trip is eventful enough, usually, in trying merely to keep life going without juggling with furniture and extra clothes. They are sent from Northern France into Germany through Switzerland to Southern France and thence up to Paris. The traveling is not de luxe as you may imagine and takes many hours-days even. To get a vivid idea of the journey you should have it described by an old dame of seventy summers who ha

y have given warm clothes, warm food, and a warm w

hostilities-very early, this spring or next fall at the latest. My opinion was formed almost entirely by the "New Republic" and the Frank H. Simonds articles in the "Atlantic" and in the "Tribune," so that I considered the fall of 1918 to be the most logical time to hope for the end. What the Allies have to do seems still well-nigh insurmo

to the Shurtleffs, then over to Mrs. Houpt's, then up to Miss Dorr's when I went to tea one afternoon, and when I asked some

lar "Tribune" was gobbled up. We have only these punk French papers and the punker "New York Paris Herald," which costs three cents and consists of one sheet of four pages-of nothing. We read, "Quiet night on the front";

our steam heating had died suddenly and ingloriously, so it was with relief that I read in your letters of this morning no trace of worry about how I was managing to exist. All the old wiseacres that I meet, and this includes Mr

n't get under the bridges to bring it to Paris, with the river so high. It seems that almost every one's proprietor was far-seeing enough to get in a huge supply last summer, but ours was probably strolling along some sunny beach and never gave the question a thought. To-day Mme. H-- heard that he has been laying in coal at his reside

od or petrol stove, as the case may be, and it's very hard on some o

ogs I burn are about twelve inches long. So at best the heat penetrates to a maximum distance of five feet. And finally the logs they send me are wet-and you can't get kindling. If you could imagine the amount of time I have spent kneeling in my fur coat before the miniature fireplace trying to light a couple of wet logs with an old copy of the "Herald," you would certainly smile. Here's where the cases from

hese days as it would be to live in a tent out on Place Denfert-Rochereau. I can see my breath if I care to look, but I'm tired of it as we approach the fifth week. I wear my fur coat most of the time and sometimes my hat, and settle down on a hassock in front of whatever fire there is, to read. I have tried wearing gloves,

for so long. And as for touching the bare floor or a door-handle! Really, had I the tongue of Greeks or Jews or possibly Siberians or Esquimaux I would describe our home atmosphere, which makes itself felt as it whistles under th

e. I never wake up in the morning any more and say like the bewildered little darky, "Whar me

e my nose is warm enough not to keep me awake, then I uncover cautiously and slowly go off to sleep. When once asleep nothing could wake me up-not the Allies victorious or the Heavenly trump. But before I go to sleep I have a fine chance to think over happy things of the past and I do love it. I think of what fu

town to Kingsley's for some hot chocolate and whipped cream. When the moon shone full on the white snow it gave the luster of midday all right. I can just hear how our footsteps crunched and the snow squeaked, it was so cold. As we'd be drinking our chocolate some one would look down the street at the town clock and cry, "It's quarter of ten!!" and we'd dash o

a mad devotee of hot water as a beverage. This ought to put new life into her, for I have always felt that she never quite recovered from the obstinate way I used to take the pitcher of hot water, regularly delivered to me on a tray flanked conspicuously with a cup and sauc

nt frame. Secondly, I am a bit done up. With my room fairly uninhabitable it has been against nature to refuse as many of the cordial (and warm) invitations that have been given me as would have been consistent with wisdom-certainly ag'in' my nature, and I have tired myself with trotti

st find out one's strength somehow-and please don't worr

too. We had dandy seats in the parterre-only seven francs seventy centimes, the seventy centimes being a tax for the poor, imposed on all theater and opera seats. Do you remember when we used to struggle and squeak through "Anges purs, anges rad

s a baby blue satin handkerchief bag that she had made herself, with a handkerchief and a sachet inside. It seemed great to see anything so pretty and useless after so many flannel waists and boots and trousers and all the homely things that are so indispensable. In the bottom of the

t, I just opened the bag and risked all the blue satin lini

e when I'm away, thinking that I have changed. I haven't at all, malheureusement. It's just that blessings apparently seem to brighten immediately after taking flight. I never do anything wonderful at all. I sometimes get tired clear through and wish there were some one to manage things for me-some one to take m

of you every day, no matter what I'm doing, and send you oceans of love, no

ght to

th

t worry, I'm goin