The doctors worked till 3 o'clock this morning. They had to amputate arms and legs affected with gangrene. The operating room was a sea of blood. Some of the pathos of war is here, and even a little of its humor, but most of all its courage. Both of the latter are mingled in the case of an English soldier who was brought in wounded from the field of Soissons. "I fought until such a day, when I was wounded." "And since then?" "Since then I have traveled." An English infantry officer, a six-footer, brought to the hospital with his head bandaged in red rather than white, showed the abbé his cap and the bullet hole in it. "A narrow escape," said the abbé in English, and then learned that the escape was narrower than the wounded forehead indicated. Another bullet, without touching the officer, had pierced the sole of his shoe under his foot, and a third had perforated his coat between the body and the arm without breaking the skin. The author's attitude toward the Germans, always free from bitterness, is sufficiently indicated in such a paragraph as this: This afternoon I gave absolution and extreme unction to an Irishman, who has not regained consciousness since he was brought here. He had in his portfolio a letter addressed to his mother. The nurse is going to add a word to say that he received the last sacraments. A Christian hope will soften the frightful news. Emperors of Austria and Germany, if you were present when the death is announced in that poor Irish home, and in thousands, hundreds of thousands of others, in England, in France, in Russia, in Servia, in Belgium, in your own countries, in all Europe, and even in Africa and Asia!... May God enlighten your consciences! The French wounded in the hospital at Neuilly--during the period when the German right wing was being beaten back from Paris--frequently accused the German regulars of wanton cruelty, but testified to the humanity of the reservists. The author relates several episodes illustrating both points. Here are two: "The regulars are no good," said a brave peasant reservist. "They struck me with the butts of their rifles on my wound. They broke and threw away all that I had. The reserves arrive, and it is different; they take care of me. My comrade, wounded in the breast, was dying of thirst; he actually died of it a little while afterward. I dragged myself up to go and seek water for him; the young fellows aimed their guns at me. I was obliged to make a half-turn and lie down again." Another, who also begins by praising the German field officers, saw soldiers of the active army stripping perfectly nude one of our men who had a perforated lung, and whom they had made prisoner after his wound: