How wonderfully inventive and skillful Love becomes under the inspiration of Religion! The humble Sisters who, in days of peace, had dedicated their virgin lives to Education, a spiritual Work of Mercy, now, under the stress of war, directed those same self-sacrificing energies to Nursing, a corporal Work of Mercy, sanctioned by Him who is the world's first Good Samaritan. Though not able to utter a single English word, their kindness spoke eloquently for them in those numerous little ways a gentle woman has of assuaging pain and soothing even "the dull cold ear of Death." The Mother Superior, by simply removing two or three pieces of furniture, converted her office into the hospital morgue; and here, assisted by the corpsmen, I prepared the bodies of my dear boys for burial. How my heart ached to see them die! In the loneliness and seclusion of those whitewashed classrooms, far removed from any sight or association that spoke of Home; to see the light of their lives burn out, and the flowers of Spring displaced by the snows of Winter! To me their deaths, amid the uninspiring surroundings of that wayside hospital, took on a grandeur and sublimity all surpassing. Far easier, indeed, would it have been for them to die on field of battle, with cheer of comrades following their flight of soul. That ward was a braver field! For there they died bereft of all that inspires, and with no pomp or thrill of war to make glad their chivalrous souls. The village carpenter was never so busy. Reinforcing his working staff, he set speedily to work building coffins. These he made of plain pine boards, staining them to a dull brown, and furnishing with each a cross and marking stake. Thirty-two of these it was my sad duty to provide and distribute during our stay in Burgundy. We soon outgrew the old churchyard at Ancey-le-Franc; and the good Cure and Monsieur le Docteur Thiery of the local hospital, set aside for us ground for another cemetery just outside the village. We enclosed this with a white picket fence and felt confident, when we marched away, that the graves of our brave boys there resting, would always be tenderly cared for by the devoted people. "On Fame's eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread, And Glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the Dead." At the place of honor, just inside that "God's Acre," I buried Sergeant Omer Talbot of Kansas City, Kansas, one of the bravest and most beloved of Headquarters Troop, who received the last Sacraments, and died in my arms. [Illustration: THE BATTLE SWEPT ROADSIDE WAS SANCTUARY AND CHOIR.]