andscape which, to judge
by its appearance, might have known only peace, and naught but peace,
for a thousand placid years.

It is true we saw during that ride few able-bodied male adults, either
in the towns through which we rushed or in the country. There were
priests occasionally and old, infirm men or half-grown boys; but of men
in their prime the land had been drained to fill up the army of defense
then on the other side of Belgium--toward Germany--striving to hold the
invaders in check until the French and English might come up. The
yellow-ripe grain stood in the fields, heavy-headed and drooping with
seed. The russet pears and red apples bent the limbs of the fruit trees
almost to earth. Every visible inch of soil was under cultivation, of
the painfully intensive European sort; and there remained behind to
garner the crops only the peasant women and a few crippled, aged grand-
sires. It was hard for us to convince ourselves that any event out of
the ordinary beset this country. No columns of troops passed along the
roads; no camps of tents lifted their peaked tops above the hedges. In
seventy-odd miles we encountered one small detachment of soldiers--they
were at a railroad station--and one Red Cross flag.

As for Brussels--why, Brussels at first glance was more like a city
making a fete than the capital of a nation making war. The flags which
were displayed everywhere; the crowds in the square before the railroad
station; the multitudes of boy scouts running about; the uniforms of
Belgian volunteers and regulars; the Garde Civique, in their queer-
looking costumes, with funny little derby hats, all braid-trimmed--gave
to the place a holiday air. After nightfall, when the people of
Brussels flocked to the sidewalk cafes and sat at little round tables
under awnings, drinking light drinks a la Parisienne, this impression
was heightened.

We dined in the open air ourselves, finding the prices for food and
drink to be both moderate and modest, and able to see nothing on the
surface which suggested that the life of these people had been seriously
disturbed. Two significant facts, however, did obtrude themselves on
us: Every minute or two, as we dined, a young girl or an old gentleman
would come to us, rattling a tin receptacle with a slot in the top
through which coins for the aid of the widows and orphans of dead
soldiers might be dropped; and when a little later we rode past the
royal palace we saw that