Lyons was far more crowded and lively than Paris, which is so quiet that it calls to mind the lake that filled the crater of Mont Pelee before the eruption of 1902.  But this fine city of the South—­situated almost as beautifully as Paris on both sides of a river—­is not only a junction, it not only has industries of all sorts besides the greatest silk factories in the world, but every train these days brings down wounded for its many hospitals, and the next train brings the family and friends of these men, who, when able to afford it, establish themselves in the city for the period of convalescence.  The restaurants and cafes were always crowded and this handsome city on the Rhone was almost gay.

There were practically no unemployed.  The old women of the poor went daily to an empty court-room where they sat in the little amphitheater sewing or knitting.  In countless other ouvroirs they were cutting and making uniforms with the same facility that men had long since acquired, or running sleeping bags through sewing-machines at the rate of thousands a day.  M. Herriot “mobilized” Lyons early in the war, and its contribution to the needs of the Front has been enormous.

The reformes (men too badly mutilated to be of further use at the front) are being taught many new trades in the ateliers:  toy-making, wooden shoes with leather tops for the trenches, cigarette packages, baskets, typewriting, stenography, weaving, repairing.  In one of the many ateliers I visited with Madame Castell I saw a man who had only one arm, and the left at that, and only a thumb and little finger remaining of the ten he had taken into war, learning to write anew.  When I was shown one of his exercises I was astounded.  He wrote far better than I have ever done, and I can recall few handwritings so precise and elegant.  One may imagine what a man accomplishes who still has a good hand and arm.  It was both interesting and pathetic to see these men guiding their work with their remaining hand and manipulating the machinery with the stump of the other arm.  Those who come out from the battlefields with health intact will be no charge to the state, no matter what their mutilations.

[Illustration:  SOCIETE L’ECLAIRAGE ELECTRIQUE, USINE DE LYON]

One poor fellow came in to the Ecole Joffre while I was there.  He was accompanied by three friends of the Mayor’s, who hoped that some one of the new occupations might suit his case.  He was large and strong and ruddy and he had no hands.  Human ingenuity had not yet evolved far enough for him.  He was crying quietly as he turned away.  But his case is by no means hopeless, for when his stumps are no longer sensitive he will be fitted with a mechanical apparatus that will take the place of the hands he has given to France.

Madame Castell’s work is supplying hospitals with anything, except food, they may demand, and in this she has been regularly helped by the Needlework Guild of Pennsylvania.