On one occasion a young German officer, covered with mud from head to foot, was brought before one of the French Generals. He had been taken fighting cleanly, and the General was anxious to show him kindness. He asked him if he would not prefer to cleanse himself before examination. The young German drew himself up and replied: "Look at me, General. I am covered from head to foot with mud, and that mud is the soil of France--you will never possess as much soil in Germany." The General turned to him with that gentle courtesy which marks the higher commands in France and answered: "Monsieur, we may never possess as much soil in Germany, but there is something that you will never possess, and, until you conquer it, you cannot vanquish France, and that is the spirit of the French people." The French find it difficult to understand the arrogance which appears ingrained in the German character and which existed before the War. I read once that in the guests' book of a French hotel a Teutonic visitor wrote: "L'AIlemagne est la premiere nation du monde." The next French visitor merely added: "Yes, 'Allemagne is the first country of the world' if we take them in alphabetical order." To The Glory Of The Women Of France I left the war zone with an increased respect, if this were possible, for the men of France. They have altered their uniforms, but the spirit is unchanged. They are no longer in the red and blue of the old days, but in shades of green, grey and blue, colours blending to form one mighty ocean--wave on wave of patriotism--beating against and wearing down the rocks of military preparedness of forty years, and as no man has yet been able to say to the Ocean stop, so no man shall cry "Halt" to the Armies of France. I have spoken much of the men of France, but the women have also earned our respect--those splendid peasant women, who even in times of peace worked, and now carry a double burden on their shoulders--the middle-class women, endeavouring to keep together the little business built up by the man with years of toil, stinting themselves to save five francs to send a parcel to the man at the Front that he may not suspect that there is not still every comfort in the little homestead--the noble women of France, who in past years could not be seen before noon, since my lady was at her toilette, and who can be seen now, their hands scratched and bleeding, kneeling on the floors of the hospitals scrubbing, proud and happy to take their part in national service. The men owe much of their courage to the attitude of the women who stand behind them, turning their tears to smiles to urge their men to even greater deeds of heroism.