ollege
has been opened as No.-- Stationary. Went up to No.-- S. this afternoon
where F---- has been sent, to see her; she asked me to go out and buy
cakes for six wounded officers. They seemed highly pleased with them;
they are on beds, the men on stretchers; all in holland sheets and brown
blankets; only bare necessaries, as the Stationary Hospitals have to be
very mobile: stretchers make very decent beds, but they are difficult
for nursing.

They have had a good many deaths, surgical and medical, at L'Eveche;
they have pneumonias, and paralysis, and septic wounds, and an officer
shot through the head, with a temperature of 106 and paralysis; there is
a civil surgeon with a leg for amputation at No.-- Stationary.

_Friday, September 18th._--Meme chose. We go up to the Hospital and ask
for orders, and to-night we were both told to get into ward uniform in
the morning, and wait there in case a job turns up. I've just come
to-night from No.-- Station where F---- is, to take her some things she
asked me to get for her officers.

They have been busy at the station to-day doing dressings on the trains.
A lot have come down from this fighting on the Marne.

Yesterday I think one touched the bottom of this waiting business. The
food at the dingy inn has derange my inside, and I lay down all day
yesterday. The Sergeant at the Dispensary prescribed lead and opium
pills for me when I asked for chlorodyne, as he said he'd just cured a
General with the same complaint--from the sour bread, he said. Fanny,
the fat cook here, and Isabel the maid, were overcome with anxiety over
my troubles, and fell over each other with hot bottles, and drinks, and
advice. They are perfect angels. Madame Bontevin pays me a state call
once a day; she has to have all the windows shut, and we sit close and
converse with animation. Flowery French compliments simply fly between
us. We often have to help the Tommies out with their shopping; their
attempts to buy Beecham's Pills are the funniest.

This afternoon I found 'The Times' of September 15th (Tuesday of this
week) in a shop and had a happy time with it. It referred, in a
Frenchman's letter, to a sunset at Havre on an evening that he would
never forget--nor shall I--with an American cruiser and a troopship
going out. (See page 24 of this effusion.)

_Saturday, September 19th._--It seems that we five No.--s who came up
last Monday are being kept to staff another Stationary Hospital farther
u