The great majority of the Belgian population--I mean, of the Belgians who stuck to their homes, as should have been done by everybody--behave in a very dignified manner, and ignore the Germans almost completely. Nearly everybody, rich and poor, wears a Belgian rosette or King Albert's portrait in the buttonhole, and by so doing defy the Germans, who regularly rage at the sight. A little story on this subject is often repeated in Brussels. A German officer asked a lady to take off the rosette she was wearing, but she refused. "Very well, then," he said, "I will do it myself," and catching hold of the rosette he threw it on the floor and stamped his foot upon it. The lady stared at him contemptuously, and said, "After all, a rosette is much easier to take than Paris." She then walked away. German soldiers have lately received the order not to bother about such trifles in Brussels, and everybody who wishes to do so can wear the colours of his country without serious consequences. I was really astonished at the appearance of some of the Brussels shops. Belgian flags and large pictures of the King and the Royal family, flanked by engravings of the Sovereigns of England and Russia, were shown in the windows, together with some clever caricatures and artistic etchings of "Bruxelles pendant l'occupation," a legend which means that it is hoped the occupation will cease as soon as possible. To say at this moment that Belgium has been stricken by famine would be an exaggeration. Food is certainly scarcer than before the war, but the population is less, and consequently the prices have not risen extraordinarily. At the restaurants the only dishes that are dearer are those that contain eggs; for the others, the higher cost to the caterers is made up for by smaller portions. Bread is really the only thing that is dear. The quality, of course, varies, but the white, pure, wholesome bread formerly to be found everywhere as part of the excellent Belgium cooking, is no more. From the Antwerp bread, which has now a funny taste as of dust, and the soft part of which is browny, full of dark spots, wet and granulous, to the brown soldier-like _pain d'ammunition_ one gets in Tournai, from the maize and millet bread of Malines, to the still white but damp and curiously tasteless bread of Brussels--all the bread which was served to me during my Belgian trip showed clearly all the tricks used to provide the country with its indispensable daily bread. What in ordinary times would have been judged only fit for animals is now sold at very high prices and makes the base of the flour employed. In places like Brussels, where a certain quantity of good flour is still obtainable at very high prices, the bread is made with a mixture of wheat, potato, and maize flour, but in most towns the wheat has been used up, and the bread has to be made without it. In all the western parts of Belgium, all that remains of the old supply of corn is used for the wounded and the sick.