Behind the lines reigns a constant anxiety. In the cities, in the villages, in the lonely farms, everywhere, the homes are empty of their men-folk. Millions of families living in fear of what crushing news the next hours may bring. Lucky those households whose men are still in the fighting line. A slight idea of the degradation and misery endured in the German prison camps may be gathered from a letter received from the brother of one of my maids. He is now at Leysin, in Switzerland, trying to regain his health and recover his eyesight. At times he is almost blind, the result of the typhus. If he loses it completely, he will indeed be a helpless burden to his family, as he is a cabinetmaker by trade. His father and mother are humble folk who have brought up their nine children honestly and well, educating them, giving each a good trade, and, before the war, looking forward themselves to a well-earned rest in their old age. Now this large family is completely ruined and broken up. This eldest son almost blind, the second son disappeared since 1914 in the holacust of the war, the third son fighting in Italy. Next month the fourth boy, barely eighteen, joins the colors. The poor old father, struck down by paralysis, has been slowly dying for months. The rest of the family, the old mother, four small children and a young girl, are entirely dependent on the wages of my maid, except for 110 francs ($23) a month, given as allowance by the French Government to those whose men are fighting. The old mother has a patch of ground where she grows a few vegetables. One boy of fourteen receives a few francs as electrician (the only wage earner at home). Out of her wages of $20.60 a month, my good Marie has helped her family, bought clothes and medicines for the sick father and the children, and managed to send twice a month, for the last three and one-half years, a box to the prisoner brother. Naturally, all her savings are gone. This is typical of thousands of families all over France—it is not a hard-luck story. These monthly boxes sent to the prisoners usually contain a half pound of coffee, costing 28 cents; a quarter pound of sugar, costing 5 cents; one-half pound of chocolate, costing 25 cents; one-half pound of rice, costing 18 cents; one-half pound of butter, costing 50 cents; one-half pound of figs, costing 14 cents; one box of sardines, costing 42 cents; one jar of jam, costing 25 cents; one can of condensed milk, costing 55 cents; one box of dates, costing 35 cents; one piece of soap, costing 20 cents; two packages of cigarettes, costing 25 cents; one pair of wool socks; one cotton shirt; packing, costing 50 cents; one box of meat and beans, costing 39 cents. The letter of Marie's brother is as follows: "Madame permits me to address to her my sincere thanks for the money which allows me to purchase some strengthening food, which my poor state of health so greatly demands.