The pastry-shops are really to be closed, I guess; the American ones have been stopped from making any kind of cake and even corn-bread. We got a big chocolate cake at Rebattet's Saturday, but I think it is the last. I am glad of it, for people at home are doing so much it seems to me we ought to be cut down over here, too. I shall be especially glad if they stop all this bonbon-making; it must use oodles of sugar. (I think we have enough for a few months, and then we will be home.) I imagine that it is the American Government that has brought pressure to bear on this, and it is a good thing. Hannah and I saw some of the cement boats being built the other day, when we were outside of Paris; they looked fine. Very low in the water, just like regular barges, but, of course, they must be built in a much shorter space of time. I wonder if they are really using them as much as they expected to? It seems to be a very critical time just now for the Allies. Lots of people are depressed and talking very gloomily. Evidently the Caillaux affair is pretty delicate. The English Government has been insulted, and it is up to the French to do away with the gentleman in question. They called the class of 1919 the day before yesterday, and also recalled that of '91, which sounds as if they wanted men. All the Americans we see speak cheerfully of three to five years' preparation, but I can't believe it. Isn't it awful to think of Padua being bombarded? Will there be anything beautiful left after this war? Even Jerusalem. We have heard such wild stories about how they have defended Venice from air attacks, that there are lots and lots of balloons up over it, and that they have wires stretched between each two, and, of course, a wire, even if pretty fine, will wreck an airplane. It seems that these wires can't be seen very well. I do not know whether this is true or not, but a very nice doctor who had just come back from there told us. By the by, he is the doctor who now gives us one afternoon a week for our refugees; then Miss Neivin--one of the workers, and who has had some first-aid training at home--can go into the homes afterwards and follow up the cases. I wonder if the Boches have really got some new atrocity to spring on us. Every one seems to think that they have. I can't see how they can have time to think up anything else. Did you hear about the mirrors used on submarines so that they are very hard to see? It sounds plausible. Lots and lots of love to you all. Tell John-on-the-corner, Mary Devlin, and all that I am looking forward to seeing them all in May. Tell Mrs. Dow that her candy is the best ever, and that it is in much better condition when she packs it in lead paper and in a tin box. Lots and lots of love again, and here's hoping that you are still alive after the eleventh page of rambling of your very-affectionate-and-looking-forward-to-being-home-soon