Hung upon a rugged tree On the hill of Calvary, Jesus suffered, death, to be The Saviour of mankind. His brow pierced by thorn, His hands and feet torn, With broken heart He died. I never knew such pain could be, This pain He bore for me! Suddenly crashing into the midst of the melody came a great shell, exploding just outside the door and causing everyone at the table to spring to his feet. The singers stopped for a second, wavered, as the reverberation of the shock died away, and then went on with their song; and the officers, abashed, wondering, dropped back into their seats marvelling at the calmness of these frail women in the face of death. Surely they had something that other women did not have to enable them to sing so unconcernedly in such a time as this! Love which conquered o’er death’s sting, Love which has immortal wing, Love which is the only thing My broken heart to heal. It burst through the grave, It brought grace to save, It opened Heaven’s gate. I never knew such love could be— This love He gave to me! It needs some special experience to appreciate what Salvation Army lassies really are, and what they have done. They are not just any good sort of girl picked up here and there who are willing to go and like the excitement of the experience; neither are they common illiterate girls who merely have ordinary good sense and a will to work. The majority of them in France are fine, well-bred, carefully reared daughters of Christian fathers and mothers who have taught them that the home is a little bit of heaven on earth, and a woman God’s means of drawing man nearer to Him. They have been especially trained from childhood to forget self and to live for others. The great slogan of the Salvation Army is “Others.” Did you ever stop to think how that would take the coquetry out of a girl’s eyes, and leave the sweet simplicity of the natural unspoiled soul? We have come to associate such a look with a plain, homely face, a dull complexion, careless, severe hair-dressing and unbeautiful clothes. Why?