There is a good deal of talk of submarines and floating mines as we approach France. The lifeboats were swung out last night, our guns loaded, all the lights darkened, and everything was preparedness. We tried on the life-preservers before retiring, and the dust of ages that they bore made me sneeze frightfully. How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to sleep on one's passport! I have played the piano a good deal on the trip. The whole ship is singing "Liebes Freud." This morning Mrs. Bigelow and I rose at 5.30, and saw a wonderful sunrise. We stood on the bridge together, and it was all gold and rose and purple. She is a peach,--Mrs. Bigelow. I can't wait to land, although I love the ship. I had thought of crossing as just crossing; and not as such a wonderful time. I do appreciate it all so much, Father, and I will write very seriously when I get to Paris. Much love. ESTHER. II FROM ESTHER Paris, Monday, October 23, 3 A.M. DEAREST MOTHER:-- This day has been so eventful, so utterly new and remarkable to me, that I can't bear to think of its being crowded out of my mind by the immediate to-morrows. These experiences in fact have been so remarkable and the after-dinner coffee so absolutely noir, that after a few hours of fitful slumber I seem to be done for the night. After I have described this place you will not wonder that ink is not provided, but you will forgive pencil, I hope (it's the nice black one out of Father's writing-case which I love so, and its maiden trip), although I know that writing in pencil holds a place with you alongside of messing the top bureau drawer and neglecting to wear a fully equipped sewing-bag always about the neck. The last night on the steamer was thrilling. I stood way out on the bow with one of the Ambulance men (the nicest one) and watched the lights way off on the horizon grow brighter and brighter. We watched the pilot row out from the pilot ship in a little boat, and although the sea looked perfectly calm compared to what it had been, it was like climbing mountains in a hickory shell. All dark night everywhere with a few flickering lights and men calling hoarse things in French back and forth from the ships--can't you see how weird it was?