"One of these unfortunates, apparently not more than seventeen years of age, had not only been painted but branded with a hot iron so that she would be marked for life with the sign of the cross. She said that a German officer would be the father of her child. This officer, the girl said, had been quartered in her parents' home and she had been forced to accede to his desires. "After her health became such that he had no further use for her, she said, he ordered her to act as his personal servant, doing the menial work in his chamber. It was not long until she was unable to continue this and then, angered at her weakness, he ordered soldiers to scour the paint from her breast and burn the cross into her flesh. When this was done, she was forced to leave her home and taken to a maternity hospital which the army had established for other girls and women of the town in the same condition. An Eye-Witness on "Kultur." "I myself saw the girl who had been branded and the others who had been painted like sheep and heard their stories, as I had been detailed to supervise the return of the refugees. Thank God, America, by coming into the war, will help to stamp out this beastly 'kultur' from the world and make it a safe, clean place to live in for your womenfolk and mine--our mothers, our sweethearts, our wives, and our daughters. I have a daughter just seventeen years old," concluded the American grimly. ---- WHEN THE FRENCH BAND PLAYS. ---- There's a military band that plays, on Sunday afternoons, In a certain nameless city's quaint old square. It can rouse the blood to battle with its patriotic tunes, And still render hymns as gentle as a prayer. When it starts "Ave Maria" there is no one in the throng But would doff his cap, his heart to heaven raise; And who would shrink from combat when, with brasses sounding strong, There is flung out on the breeze "La Marseillaise"? When it starts to render "Sambre et Meuse," the march that won the day At the battle of the Marne, one sees again The grey-green hosts of Hundom melt before the stern array Of our gallant sister-ally's blue-clad men. And when it plays our Anthem, with rendition bold and clear-- While the khaki lads stand steady--then we feel That, though tongues and ways may vary, we've found brothers over here, Tried in war, and in allegiance true as steel. For it's olive-drab, horizon-blue, packed closely side by side, Till their color sets ablaze the grey old square; And it's olive-drab, horizon-blue, whatever may betide, That will blaze the path to victory "up there." So, while standing thus together, let us pledge anew our troth To the Cause--the world set free!--for which we fight. As the evening twilight gilds the ranks of blue and khaki both, And the bugles die away into the night.