Harold Willis writes us the most thrilling accounts of the doings of the aviators now. He sent us some of the cards, printed in German by the French Government, which he and his fellow "flyers" drop by the thousands while flying over German territory. The cards say that the United States has joined the war, and recommend that the people surrender, as they will be well fed and taken care of. They are not very dignified, I think, and it is an amusing campaign, is it not? But in some ways I would rather have them drop cards than bombs on the villages, hadn't you? It will seem queer to get home to Boston some day and go into street cars and public buildings, and not read on all sides such notices as "Taisez-vous, méfiez-vous, les oreilles ennemies vous écoutent." Also, "Versez votre or pour le Gouvernement." Sunday, while we were wandering through the woods, we came upon a beautiful big tree,--a fairy oak,--all decorated with flags and flowers and prayers for victory. It stood in the middle of a clear space--benches around it. It was touching to see every passer-by take a few flowers from the bunch they were carrying home and lay them devoutly at the foot of the tree, praying as they did so. All the flags were weather-beaten except the latest addition, the American, which looked bright and hopeful in contrast to the others. I have never seen a tree like this. Mark Twain tells of the one at Arc in his "Life of Joan of Arc." The terrace at night is in some ways more beautiful than in the daytime. One can see the various searchlights playing in all directions. They are really wonderful,--first one and then another combs the sky, as it were, looking for hostile aircraft, which, by the bye, never get here. The work continues to grow. Mrs. Sturgis is leaving us this next week, unfortunately, and we are all dividing up her duties. Work in the Food Department comes to me. I am both glad and scared. It will be interesting handing out the food and keeping the shop shelves supplied; but it requires lots of judgment to talk with the women each week, and decide when to stop giving them food, and to try to advise them on all sorts of questions. However, I am going to make a try at it. I think it is pretty nice of Mrs. Shurtleff to ask me to do it. I ran across a new thing the other day: one of the families we were calling on showed us their linen,--sheets and underclothes,--which were completely yellowed and rotted by the asphyxiating gases! They fell to pieces when touched. Another result of this new kind of warfare. Sometimes when I see so many children sick and diseased through the results of their privations while under the German rule, I can't help wondering what the coming generation will be like when they grow up. They have had such hideous childhood. Gas-mask drills at school, lack of food, no homes for many of them, and goodness knows no future.