Eating is one of the best things the Germans do, so it did not surprise me when the Captain led the way to the prisoners' kitchen. It looked the same as at Doeberitz, only here the huge cauldrons were filled with a whitish semi-liquid substance that made you wonder, until the cook explained that it was rice. I was deciding that the prisoners were fed more substantially over at Doeberitz, when the Captain remarked, "We have many Catholics here, you know, and to-day is Friday, so we give them rice instead of a meat stew." He went on to explain that the men received a pound and a half of bread every third day, as well as receiving the sausage and soup diet of Doeberitz. The men were doing things, not slouching around. They were either making little articles or playing games. I saw them weaving slippers of straw and cutting out things with pocket knives; in one corner of the room a bit of gay color met the eye. A soldier was making paper flowers. In poor French I asked him what the flowers were for. "They are for the chapel altar," he replied with dancing eyes. I turned to the Captain. "What! Have you got a chapel here for these fellows?" "You will soon see it," he said. "They built the altar themselves, and among the captured soldiers are three French priests." At the end of the kitchen street I noticed an adjoining structure, which the Captain explained was the canteen. In there I found a wonderfully equipped little place, where all sorts of articles were for sale. Soldiers were sitting around just as farmers hang around a country store and talk. There was a gossipy air of snugness about the little place that made one think it belonged in the midst of a well fed garrison and not in a prison camp. There was a counter behind which stood a German salesman, assisted by a French interpreter, and this little canteen bore no relation whatever to the system of company stores in vogue in the mining camps of America. In other words, it was run to give the men the best possible for their money. On a blackboard I saw chalked different prices, 10 Cigarettes for 10 Pfg., which is almost five for a cent. I saw sponges strung on a string, which convinced me that the men in the camp were doubly anxious to keep clean. I was reminded of Coney Island by a little griddle of sizzling hot dogs, which could be bought for two cents each. I saw a basket full of segments of thick German wurst, 5 cents for a piece 2 inches in diameter and 4 inches long. They even sold butter in that little store ½ lb. for 12 cents, cheaper than you can get it in America. Sides of bacon, hams and long dangling wurst hung from the ceiling, and near them a wooden aeroplane tried to fly, while below on the floor, a pair of wooden shoes waited the owner who had the necessary 45 cents. On a table in a corner I saw where the games came from, checkers and cards, absurdly cheap. They even sold beer. I remarked on this.