No one has stuck to his or her usual role in the past two years, which has added a piquancy to life.  We have all wanted to do our bit and the “Why not?” that I feel so strongly in California has spread over the whole country.  In order to make the most efficient use of the newly discovered talents on every side, the Red Cross sent out cards with blanks to be filled by all those ready to work, asking what they felt themselves fitted to do, when could they work, and how long.  One card read “willing but nervous, might possibly pray.”

Our Red Cross Street brought in many people full of enthusiasm and energy, who might never have rolled a bandage.  I shan’t soon forget the strenuous days of its opening.  J——­ and another diplomat, who also has a talent for pouring oil on troubled waters, were in charge of the financial part of the enterprise, and theirs was the task of seeing that none of the chapter funds were used, so that no possible criticism could arise.  A pretty young actress offered to give a premiere of a comedy which she was about to take on the road, for the benefit of the street, and every one was delighted until they saw a rehearsal.  It was one of those estranged-husband-one-cocktail-too-many farces, full of innuendo and profanity.  J——­ and his partner were much upset, but it was too late to withdraw.  The company, in deference to the Red Cross, agreed to leave out everything but the plain damns.  Even then it wasn’t what they would have chosen, and two very depressed “angels” met in the hall of the High School Auditorium, on the night of the performance.  Nothing had gone right.  The tickets were late coming from the printer, the advertising man had had tonsilitis, every one was “fed up” with Red Cross entertainments, and it was pouring in torrents.  There was a sprinkling of gallant souls on the first floor of the big hall, and that was all.  The fact that they wouldn’t make much money wasn’t what was agitating the “angels” nearly as much as the wrath of the pink-and-white lady about to appear.  Then came the inspiration.  I wish I could say it was J——­’s idea, but it was Mr. M——­’s.  A night school of several hundred is in session in that building every evening, and a cordial invitation to see a play free brought the whole four hundred in a body to fill the auditorium, if not completely, at least creditably.  They loved it and were loud in their applause.  The “damns” didn’t bother them a bit.  They encored the lady, which, combined with a mammoth bouquet, provided by the “management,” gave the whole thing quite a triumphant air.  When we all went behind the scenes after the play, the atmosphere was really balmy.  The lady expressed herself as greatly pleased and gratified by so large and enthusiastic an audience. ("On such a bad night, too!”) I retired behind a bit of scenery and pinched myself till I felt less hilarious.  One thing I know, and that is that if J——­ should ever change his business it won’t be to go into any theatrical enterprise.  I don’t think even the “movies” could lure him, and yet she was a very pretty actress!