occupied districts. There were all kinds of
dreadful stories as to what went on about the country, and she was told
it would never do to leave Lille. When she did leave, and made her way
to Holland, she found no confirmation of these stories. Travelling was
uncomfortable and tedious, but there was no peril of any kind.

In the early days of the war there were Belgian refugees at Alexandra
Palace. M. Cyon was a journalist, and took his notebook with him to put
down interesting facts. He wished to confine himself to facts, however,
which not all journalists do. He found the women full of stories about
atrocities, but they were always terrible things that had happened to
_someone else_. The student of war atrocities indeed finds this to be a
very general feature of the stories told. It by no means follows that
atrocities do not occur. Certainly they do, but the number undergoes
extraordinary exaggeration in the excited minds of the people. M. Cyon,
therefore, as a serious observer, asked for one person who could speak
at first hand. One of the refugees, he was told, was a woman whose
little boy had been branded on both cheeks by the Germans. He was
directed to this woman. He asked for her experiences, but she had
nothing startling to tell. "But," he asked, "was not your little boy
very badly treated by the Germans?" "Little boy!" she exclaimed, in
astonishment, "I have no little boy, I have no son at all."

Madame Cyon had various patients at Lille. Her 24 Germans, she told me,
gave her no more trouble than any ordinary patients. She had, however,
four French Moroccan soldiers to nurse, and she describes them as
extremely savage. She was sometimes afraid of them, and of one
especially.

Madame Cyon was often overworked, and patients are not always
reasonable. One evening she brought her German patients some mutton
stew, and one of the wounded men made a dissatisfied remark about it.
Madame Cyon was feeling very tired and the remark hurt her. She remained
outside in the corridor instead of coming to the men as usual during
their meal. Presently one man who had acted as interpreter came out.
"Madame, you are cross." "Yes, I am." "Why are you cross?" "The men have
been well treated, I have done all I could, and now they grumble about
nothing." The man was very sorry, he went back, and presently all who
could walk came out and apologised. How strangely alike, after all, we
human beings are! But our rulers could never lead u