There were weeks of convalescence. The hospital librarian in khaki stopped beside his cherry red comforter. He turned his face to the wall. There was nothing she could do for him. But in time he came to watch for her on her rounds as he did for the doctor. Finally he asked for books and magazines and the papers. And the news of the day that she brought him, flared with just two topics, War and Woman. The one was man’s universal activity, the other was his Great Discovery. You know how pleased a boy is with a Christmas toy he finds will go with some new unexpected action? Women were in all kinds of unprecedented action. THE NEW WOMAN’S SLOGAN The girl orderly in the blue tunic dressed Sergeant Jones one day for the convalescent soldiers’ outing. A girl chauffeur of the Woman’s Reserve Ambulance Corps picked him up in her arms like a child and set him on the seat beside her and took her place at the wheel. Could a woman drive a car? She shot hers in and out of the tangled maze of the London traffic as easily as a girl he had seen send a croquet ball through a wicket. Other cars whizzed by with women at the wheel. Great motor vans, with a woman on the high driver’s seat, swung safely past. Fleets of motor busses came careening along with girl conductors in short skirts balancing jauntily in command on the rear platforms. The bus marked “Woolwich Special” drew up at the Haymarket curb to take on a load of women munition workers going out for the night shift at the great arsenal. High on a ladder against a building here in Cockspur Street, two girl window cleaners stand at work in tunic and trousers. Girl footmen are opening the doors of carriages before the fashionable shops of Oxford Street. Girl operators are running the lifts. Girl messengers in government uniform are going in and out of Whitehall. A kingdom is in the hands of its women. Round and round the world has turned since yesterday. Here in Trafalgar Square a crowd of a thousand people hang on the words that a woman is speaking. Jones had never heard Mrs. Pankhurst; he had forbidden his wife to when she came to their town. Rampant, women’s rights females were against the laws of God and England. This, the arch conspirator of them all, he pictured in his mind’s eye as permanently occupied in burning country residences and bombing cathedrals and engaging in hand to hand conflicts with the London police. Now wouldn’t it take your breath away? Here she was doing nothing at all of the kind. A very well gowned lady stood directly between the British lions, her slender figure outlined against the statue of Nelson. Her clear, ringing tones carried over the listening throng to Jones and his comrades in the Women’s Reserve Ambulance car. One small hand frequently came down into the palm of the other in the emphatic gesture that in times past brought two continents to attention. It is the hand that hurled the stone that cracked the windows of houses of government around the world.