The French who are in charge of Scutari depart, the officers leaving to us some of their furniture, including a full length French plate mirror. Ordinarily when I look in a full-length mirror I don't hate myself so much--so it is with some degree of anticipated pleasure that I complacently approach, to get a life-size reflection of myself after many months of deprivation of that pleasure. "_Mon Dieu!_" I exclaim. "_Bogomi_!" (Serbian--'For the love of Allah!') "This is no mirror," I mutter. "This is one of those musee things that make you look like a Tony Sarg picture of Irvin Cobb." "What's irritating you, Dockie?" asks one of the girls, coming up and standing back of me. I look at her reflection. She does not look like Irvin Cobb! "Peggy," I say tragically, "Peggy, do I look like my reflection?" "Yes, dear, we have all noticed how stout you have been getting. Aren't you supposed to be some shark on the subject of ideal weight?" And the bitter truth is borne in upon me--no matter how hard I work--no matter how much I exercise, no matter what I suffer, I will always have to watch my weight, I will always have to count my calories. This is what I did then: I stopped going to the breakfast table. I kept some canned milk and coffee in my room, and made me two cups of coffee. For lunch I ate practically what I wanted, limiting myself to one slice of bread or one potato (we had no butter), with fruit for dessert. For dinner I came down only when the dessert was being served, and had a share of that with some coffee. I was jeered and derided. You know how in community life we all are as disagreeable as we like, and still love each other. Did not I know the desserts were the most fattening part of the meal? I was some authority on how to reduce, I was! In vain I told them that it did not matter so long as my total caloric intake did not equal the number that I needed. It was not until some months after, when they saw that I was normal weight again, that they began to realize I knew whereof I spoke. Then came our withdrawal from Albania and release from duty. After months of canned goods came Paris with its famous dishes; Creme d'Isigny avec creme! Artichauts an beurre! Patisseries francaises! Oo lala! Again I said calories be _dashed_! I can reduce when I get home. I had no delusions now, you see. * * * * * And now I am home trying to help raise the funds for the starving children of Central Europe, and explaining to my friends that while there is a food shortage in Europe it is not because I was there; and that I am reducing and the money that I can save will help keep a child from starving, and that they can do the same; that for every pang of hunger we feel we can have a double joy, that of knowing we are saving worse pangs in some little children, and that of knowing that for every pang we feel we lose a pound. A pang's a pound the world around we'll say.