To come back to Sunday evening. I played at the meeting the same programme as on Monday. To my surprise, Dr. Shurtleff also made a speech about grandfather, whom he knew in Chicago when he (Dr. Shurtleff) was a young man. Many people came up and spoke to me afterwards, and I found that lots of them knew the family in Chicago. Their enthusiasm was quite exciting and made me feel almost like writing war songs myself. Wouldn't it be wonderful to hear grandfather's "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp," sung in France! Yesterday--Easter Monday--we all gave up our holiday to go to the Vestiaire and help to move our ouvroir department into a little store up the street. I have explained that the work is carried on in an apartment on the ground floor at 18 rue Ernest Cresson--one room is the women's vestiaire, another, the men's vestiaire, a third Mrs. Shurtleff's office, and a fourth, the ouvroir, where sewing and all kinds of work is given out to the refugees. We have been crowded always, but of late it has been almost impossible to work in the front two rooms with so many people doing different things at once. People would keep running in and out of Mrs. Shurtleff's office while she was dictating, to look up records, or to get down reserve stock from the shelves; the officer of the day would have to interview refugees in a corner of the ouvroir, while lines of other refugees were waiting to call for, and hand in, work--the confusion was impossible. The two rooms together are not as big as the den at home. Well, Mrs. Shurtleff, who goes around this world with her eyes open, I can tell you, discovered a little store that had been closed since the beginning of the war. It had been rented by a German. He was chased away in 1914, his windows broken, and the place roughly boarded up. Mrs. Shurtleff sought out the proprietor, rented it, and had it repaired. Saturday word came that we could move in. We have been so crazy to spread out a little that when some one suggested that all hands should report on Easter Monday,--one of the great holidays here,--and get the moving actually done, we all volunteered. At nine o'clock we started. We took things down off shelves, stood in line and passed them through the window, where Miss Curtis received them and stuffed them into the Ford. When the poor little car was so laden down with clothes and materials and bundles that it looked as though it would burst a blood vessel, it started off and we all ran along beside it up to the new shop. There we formed another line, and unloaded the car and put the things on the waiting shelves.