A great French preacher the other day, in his sermon in a Paris church, said that this coming to France of millions of English troops and future millions of American troops may mean eventually one of the greatest changes in Continental Europe the world has ever known. His words never seemed to me so full of meaning as they did when I was among the Americans in the heart of France. There, of course, the contrast is infinitely greater than it can be in the France which our own troops are occupying and defending. These young, fresh, hustling, keen Americans, building up numerous works of all kinds to prepare for defending France, have brought with them Chinese labor and negro labor; and Chinese and negroes and German and Austrian prisoners all work in these American camps under American officers' orders. Imagine what an experience, what a miracle, indeed, this spectacle seems to the country-folk of this old French soil, who have always lived very quietly, who never wanted to go anywhere else, and who knew, indeed, that France had allies fighting and working for her, but had never seen any of them until these Americans came across three thousand miles of ocean. Something of a miracle, also, is what our new allies are accomplishing. They are doing everything on a huge scale. I saw aviation camps, training camps, aviation schools, vast tracts where barracks were being put up, railways built, telegraphs and telephones installed by Chinese labor, negro labor, German prisoners' labor, under the direction of American skilled workmen, who are in France by the thousand. There are Y.M.C.A. canteens, Red Cross canteens, clubs for officers and for men, theatres and cinemas for the army, and a prodigious amount of food--all come from America. The hams alone I saw strung up in one canteen would astonish the boches. American canned goods, meat, fruit, condensed milk, meal, &c., have arrived in France in stupendous quantities. No body of American troops land in France until what is required for their sustenance several weeks ahead is already stored in France. Only the smallest necessaries are bought on the spot, and troops passing through England on their way to France are strictly forbidden, both officers and men, to buy any article of food whatsoever in England. As for the quality, the American has nothing to complain of, so far as I could see. All pastry, cakes, sweets are henceforth prohibited throughout civilian France, but the American troops rightly have all these things in plenty. I saw marvelous cakes and tarts, which would create a run on any Paris or London teashop, and the lady who manages one American Red Cross canteen (by the way, she is an Englishwoman, and is looked up to by the American military authorities as one of the best organizers they have met) explained to me wonderful recipes they have for making jam with honey and preserved fruit. The bread, of course, they make themselves,