ble results of war in Paris. London
was far, far worse. I am told that the French Government has provided
other places for "les mutiles." Instead, all over Paris are sturdy
bands of little "poilus," marching in their extremely _supple_ order.
And many times a day squads of French cavalry go clattering under my
window. The reserves are being demobilized and they are everywhere.

Pouillenay, France,
February 7, 1919.

Dearest Family: If I have let more than a week go by since my last
letter please forgive me. These have been days full of events, and in
the brief intervals between events I have had to rest in order to keep
a full supply of energy on tap for the occasion to come. When one is
the only woman among some 1500 men, one must not slump. But I'll tell
you all about it.

On the Monday after I wrote you last, the doctor signed my release and
things began to move. I was to go to Semur, in Burgundy. I knew no
more about it than that. Tuesday, at 2.30 I was to pull out of the
Gare de Lyons.

In order to travel in France which is all under military rule, a great
many documents, tickets, and identification papers are necessary, and
it takes a great deal of labor and patience to procure them all. The
Y.M.C.A. office in Paris is an enormous and hectic place, with its
various departments poorly co-ordinated; so I, like every one else,
did a great deal of running up and down stairs and much retracing of
steps before everything concerning baggage, tickets, money, equipment,
mail, etc., was attended to.

Tuesday morning, I and my baggage were at the station two hours ahead
of train-time as I had been warned was necessary. There I received the
joyful news that there was no 2.30 train to Semur. That there was one
at nine in the evening and another at 7.00 a.m. I had been in France
long enough not to be upset by a mere trifle like that, so I set about
registering my baggage and attending to the dozens of things that are
necessary at the station. A most delightful old porter was my guide,
counsellor and friend, leading me through the maze of red tape with
unfaltering steps. I entrusted all my handbaggage to him for the
night, which would seem rash to all who hadn't looked into his shrewd
and kindly face. And then I walked back into Paris with only a
toothbrush in my pocket. After reporting my delay at headquarters, who
scowled at me for their mis