[Illustration:  A RAILWAY DEPOT CANTINE]

It was evident, however, that their imagination carried them beyond man’s interiorities.  The walls were charmingly decorated not only with pictures of the heroes of the war but with the colored supplements of the great weekly magazines which pursue their even and welcome way in spite of the war.  Above there were flags and banners, and the lights were very bright.  Altogether there was no restaurant in Paris more cheerful—­or more exquisitely neat in its kitchen.  I went behind and saw the great roasts in their shining pans, the splendid loaves of bread, the piles of clean dishes.  Not a spot of grease in those crowded quarters.  In a corner the President of the Chamber of Commerce was cashier for the night.

Adjoining was a rest-room with six or eight beds, and a lavatory large enough for several men simultaneously to wash off the dust of their long journey.

These cantines are supported by collections taken up on trains.  On any train between Paris and any point in France outside of the War Zone girls in the uniform of the Croix Rouge appear at every stop and shake a box at you.  They are wooden boxes, with a little slit at the top.  As I have myself seen people slipping in coppers and, no doubt, receiving the credit from other passengers of donating francs, I suggested that these young cadets of the Red Cross would add heavily to their day’s toll if they passed round open plates.  Certainly no one would dare contribute copper under the sharp eyes of his fellows.  This, I was told, was against the law, but that it might be found practicable to use glass boxes.

In any case the gains are enough to run these cantines.  The girls are almost always good looking and well bred, and they look very serious in their white uniform with the red cross on the sleeves; and the psychotherapeutic influence is too strong for any one to resist.

Madame Waddington had brought a large box of chocolates and she passed a piece over the shoulder of each soldier, who interrupted the more serious business of the moment to be polite.  Other people bring them flowers, or cigarettes, and certainly there is no one in the world so satisfactory to put one’s self to any effort for as a poilu.  On her manners alone France should win her war.

X

THE COUNTESS D’HAUSSONVILLE[D]

I

Madame la Comtesse d’Haussonville, it is generally conceded, is not only the greatest lady in France but stands at the very head of all women working for the public welfare in her country.  That is saying a great deal, particularly at this moment.

  [D] Naturally this should have been the first chapter, both on
      account of the importance of the work and the position of Madame
      d’Haussonville among the women of France, but unfortunately the
      necessary details did not come until the book was almost ready
      for press.