tart barking and howling; in ponds near are
frogs croaking.

My staff are so nice, it makes work so much easier. I went into
Kragujevatz to-day to do some shopping. None of us are allowed to go
on account of typhus, but there is not much fear when one takes
precautions. The shops are quite nice and the shoes and clothes
quaint. Singer's sewing machines are seen everywhere; also Sunlight
soap, Colman's mustard, Peak Frean's biscuits, Peter's milk chocolate.
These things remind us of home. Rice, haricot beans and prunes are
very plentiful, and they form some of the chief articles of diet.

Wednesday, _April 28, 1915._

The wagons are drawn by oxen; they only do twenty miles a day. They
are magnificent beasts and are well cared for. We have bought two of
them and have called them Derry & Toms, as Derry & Toms gave us two or
three of their carts to bring out here.

We have had six officers dining with us to-day. The heat is terrific.
I can't imagine what it will be in June. The Serbian food is very
funny, but good. For breakfast they have a kind of bread-pudding; they
call it our "English" bread-pudding, but the Serbian name is "Popiri."
You put bread cut into dice into boiling water, with salt and fat;
they beat it all together and serve. They like it so much and do not
care for anything else; for a change they have stewed prunes and
bread. They drink tea or coffee and the ones on special diet have
eggs.

Sunday, _May 2, 1915._

We have so much work here we seldom know the day or the date. We have
just had tent drill, as we may move on soon, then we shall have to
pull down our tents ourselves. We have lost several of our stores
coming out: all the bacon and lots of other things. Some of the men
look dreadful and half starved; they seem to like our food. I have
five Austrian prisoners working for me. It is difficult to get much
work out of them, as they say, "No pay, no work"; but I said then
there will be no food, and now they cannot do enough for us; they are
not bad on the whole. I have a funny man who buys for me in the
market. He is too fat to fight, and he is always telling me, with his
arms in the air, that he works only for me. We slept outside on our
camp beds last night; it began to rain and the night nurses had to
carry us in. It is lovely to see how the wounded enjoy this camp life;
they are so happy. When they arrive they