Germany," by Mary
Littlefair, published by John Long, Ltd. The authoress saw and heard
absurd Press charges on the other side, and something, too, of the
irrational hatred of war-time, but the little book is a record of almost
nothing but kindness, and gives fresh hope to those who had begun to
despair of human nature.[63] Here are two cases of singular beauty from
Nauheim. A postman "happened to know of a poor English lady whose funds
had come to an end, and who had in consequence offered to wash up the
crockery at her pension in return for her board and lodging, and he told
her one morning that he had forty pounds saved up which she should have,
and welcome, if she was in need." The case of the bath-chair woman was
not less touching and generous, for she and her husband, a
crossing-sweeper, also put their savings at the disposal of an invalid
lady his wife used to wheel out every day, telling her that, though
their cottage was only small, they did possess a tiny spare room, and
they would be so glad if she would come to them as their honoured guest,
supposing--as at present seemed likely--the English would have to spend
the winter in Nauheim; they would indeed do their best to make her happy
and comfortable.[64]

On more than one occasion in the railway trains the "enemy" character of
Miss Littlefair and those who were with her was revealed, but no
unkindness was shown. The last occasion was in October, 1914. "'Shall
you have to travel farther, or does your journey end in Munich,' 'No,' I
said, 'we hope to go on to Switzerland to-morrow.' 'O, how delightful!
You are lucky. It is such a beautiful country. Tell me, are you
foreigners by any chance--American, or perhaps English?' she queried.
'English,' I replied. The truth was out, and I looked to see a change of
feeling reflected in her pleasant, winsome face; but her expression
remained as kind and as interested as before, and her manner as cordial,
so I told her more about ourselves, as there was no longer any need of
reserve, and she had told me so much of their affairs." There was, of
course, the usual patriotic bias, but it was expressed with real good
feeling. "'Of course, we don't hold the English people personally
responsible for the war,' she said, 'but we think that England[65] has
behaved very shabbily. It is very grieving, though, that the two
countries should be at war.' She had two or three English friends, and
told me about them till our arrival in Munic