ers. They swarmed along
the banks in continuous lines, a vast pilgrimage of the hopeless, many
laden with household possessions which they had been able to gather at
almost a moment's notice. Numbers were empty-handed and burdened at that
in dragging their weary bodies along the miles which seemed never
ending. It was a heartrending spectacle. Infinite pity must go out to
those broken victims of the war, bowed veterans driven from home, going
they knew not where; women with their crying children, famished for lack
of food, all or nearly all leaving behind men folk who were still
fighting their country's battle or mourning the loss of loved ones who
had already sacrificed their lives.

Where the Scheldt becomes Dutch property we were stopped by customs
authorities and submitted to a rigorous examination. Dutch officials for
a time believed we were either Belgian or English officers escaping, but
eventually they were satisfied.

Upon arriving at Flushing we found the town in a tremendous state of
excitement. Great crowds of refugees were there, 10,000 or more, and
the hotels were choked. Many wretched people had left their homes
absolutely without any money and were forced to camp in the streets.
There was a vast crowd waiting to get on the Flushing-Folkestone boat,
and it appeared we would be balked in our endeavor to get to England
that night. However, we discussed our position with the Superintendent
of the line, and he very kindly got us a berth.

*As the French Fell Back on Paris*

*By G.H. Perris of The London Daily Chronicle.*

[Special Dispatch to THE NEW YORK TIMES.]

CHATEAU [Transcriber: original 'Chateau'] THIERRY, Sunday, Sept. 13.--We
first realized yesterday, in a little town of Brie which lies east of
Paris, between the Seine and the Marne, how difficult it is to get food
in the rear of two successive invasions. As in every other town in the
region, all the shops were shut and nearly all the houses. It was only
after a long search that we found an inn that could give us luncheon.

There, in a large room with a low-beamed roof and a tiled floor, our
stout landlady in blue cotton produced an excellent meal of melon,
mutton, macaroni, and good ripe pears. Dogs and cats sprawled around us,
and a big bowl of roses spoke of serenities that are now in general
eclipse. At a neighboring table a group of peasants, too old for active
service, were discussing their grievances.

At a railway crossing j