Now this stamp won’t pay for transit On our own or other soil, But ’tis plain to him that scans it That it pays for Red Cross toil. And to keep the white plague under And upon that pest to tramp, Buy the latest postal wonder, Buy the little Christmas Stamp. THE STORY OF THE RED CROSS THE HARVEST OF DEATH Throughout the entire action the Emperor Francis Joseph remained calm and composed. Towards the evening the Austrian centre having yielded the left wing, not daring to face the position of the Allies, a general retreat was decided upon and the head of the House of Hapsburg, who throughout the day had watched the bullets raining around him, withdrew with a part of his staff in the direction of Volta. The Austrian officers had fought like lions, many in their despair gave themselves up to death by the enemy’s hands, but not without selling dearly their lives. Most of those who returned to their regiments were covered with the blood of their own wounds or those of their enemies. The roads were filled with army wagons, carts and reserve artillery. The first convoys of Austrian wounded, consisting of the less serious cases, commenced to come into Villa-Franca, the more seriously wounded followed. The Austrian medical staff dressed the wounds hastily and in a perfunctory manner gave a little nourishment to the sufferers, and then sent them on by rail to Verona, where the crowding was most fearful. Although in the retreat the Austrian Army sought to carry away all the wounded possible, and this at the price of much extra suffering to the poor men, thousands were left behind lying on the ground, still drenched with their blood. [Illustration: VICTOR EMANUEL, KING OF SARDINIA, LATER KING OF ITALY.] Towards the close of the day, when the twilight shadows were creeping over this vast field of carnage, more than one French officer, more than one French soldier wandered here and there, seeking some missing friend or compatriot, beside whom, when found, he knelt endeavoring to restore him to consciousness, to staunch the flow of blood, to dress the terrible wounds, to bind his handkerchief around a fractured limb or to vainly seek for water to quench the agonizing thirst. What silent tears must have been shed on that unhappy night! During the battle flying ambulances were stationed on farms, in churches, convents, in the open air, or under the shade of the trees, which received firstly wounded officers and non-commissioned officers, attending to them in great haste, and afterwards came the rank and file if the medical staff had time to spare for them. Such as could walk betook themselves to the ambulances; others were carried on stretchers and hand-barrows.