Many of the stories were so unspeakably horrible I should not care to perpetuate them in print. I have, moreover, limited myself to such events as came to me first-hand, and also to avoid those already known. These two are recounted merely to demonstrate the lack of human understanding evinced by the German authorities, who expected a people so treated submissively to yield up their possessions, even their very beds and mattresses, to an enemy that had scorned all principles of right and shown them no slightest hint of mercy. It was little to be wondered at that they hid or destroyed their goods rather than yield them, even though obliged to endure severe punishment when discovered. And no less comprehensible was their contempt for the peace-whines,—the subtle endeavours of a defeated bully to avert the punishment every heart in Belgium was eager should overtake them. The stupidity of Prussian rule in Belgium was only equalled by this childish effort to escape the consequences of their stupendous crime!—an effort scorned, not only by the Belgians, but by every neutral who had seen with what appalling contempt for all laws of humanity, justice, and civilization they had misused their power, when victory had seemed likely to be theirs. Long before the too-patient United States raised an avenging hand, several of her children were arrested in Brussels for bitter utterances they could not control. I remember how a young fellow who, having diplomatic connections, had long suppressed his ire, let out one day when he and some friends were lunching together in a café. It was at the time when Belgian civilians were being taken by force to work for the enemy, and one of the party had related a heart-breaking scene witnessed at one of the railroad stations. Mothers, wives, and sisters were gathered there, weeping and shrieking against the unpardonable cruelty. This pitiable tale, and others quite as distressing, had roused them all; but the young fellow referred to was beside himself, and when others endeavoured to quiet him, he sprang up and rushed into the street. One or two followed, fearing what he might do, and saw him deliberately cross to the centre of a public square, where, standing bare-headed, he shouted at the top of his voice: “To hell with the Kaiser! To hell with the Kaiser!” Had he not been dragged back to the café by his companions, he probably would have continued his perilous insult until brought into the desired contact with some German. But such brief satisfaction would have caused not only distress to his entire family, but probably more wide-spreading difficulties. Another American was arrested and dragged to the Kommandantur for having been rude to a soldier in the street, and several were in the German black-book for betraying inimical feelings more or less openly.