able to
understand, finding themselves alone, that they, too, must get into this
train to escape death? Their clothes were decent, and their little
stockings were thick and warm; clearly they belonged to humble but
careful parents; they were, doubtless, the sons of one of those sublime
Belgian soldiers who had fallen heroically on the battlefield, and whose
last thought had perhaps been one of supreme tenderness for them. They
were not even crying, so overcome were they by fatigue and sleepiness;
they could scarcely stand. They could not answer when they were
questioned, but they seemed intent, above all, upon keeping a tight hold
of each other. Finally the elder, clasping the little one's hand
closely, as if fearing to lose him, seemed to awake to a sense of his
duty as protector, and, half asleep already, found strength to say, in a
suppliant tone, to the Red Cross lady bending over him: "Madame, are
they going to put us to bed soon?" For the moment this was all they were
capable of wishing, all that they hoped for from human pity--to be put
to bed.

They were put to bed at once, together, of course, still holding each
other tightly by the hand; and, nestling one against the other, they
fell at the same moment into the tranquil unconsciousness of childish
slumber.

Once, long ago, in the China Sea, during the war, two little frightened
birds, smaller even than our wrens, arrived, I know not how, on board
our ironclad, in our Admiral's cabin, and all day long, though no one
attempted to disturb them, they fluttered from side to side, perching on
cornices and plants.

At nightfall, when I had forgotten them, the Admiral sent for me. It was
to show me, now without emotion, the two little visitors who had gone to
roost in his room, perched upon a slender silken cord above his bed.
They nestled closely together, two little balls of feathers, touching
and almost merged one in the other, and slept without the slightest
fear, sure of our pity. And those little Belgians sleeping side by side
made me think of the two little birds lost in the China Sea. There was
the same confidence and the same innocent slumber--but a greater
tenderness was about to watch over them.

What the Germans Desire

Not Conquest, but a New Economical System of Europe

By Gustaf Sioesteen

The subjoined letter from Berlin, published originally in the
Swedish Goteborgs Handels-Tidnung of Oct. 26, 1914, was
immediately tra