is a great shortage. And the way prices jump up from one week to
another!! We calculated two weeks ago that every move costs us well over
five hundred francs, with the beds. Now they are much more. Everything
goes up two to three francs a week. Beds cost ninety francs for a double
lit cage, with mattress and two pillows, where they used to be only
seventy last spring. Single beds are fifty-nine instead of thirty-two.
Stoves used to be fifteen to twenty-five francs new, and now we pay
thirty for old ones and seventy for the new ones. Next week they are to
be fifty per cent more, I was told. Lessiveuses are thirty-five, and we
have had to give them up, although I hope to change that, and give the
few big things and no small things,--forks and knives and all that,--for
a family can, after all, save and buy those things, and they never would
be able to get either a buffet or lessiveuse. Mrs. H---- pays
twenty-five to thirty-five francs for a secondhand buffet now, and she
used to get a big, tall, new one for twenty-five. All the small things
are about a franc more, pails and all such. Linen is terribly dear.
Fortunately, we still have some unbleached linen from America for the
sheets. When it goes, I don't know what we will do. They want nine
francs apiece for the most slimsy cotton sheets here. I do not quite see
what is going to happen if things keep on getting more and more
expensive. What will stop it all? And I suppose Germany is richer than
ever with her latest gains in Russia. What is going to happen?
Rootie says it is time to go to bed, and I guess she is right. Lots and
lots of love.
Your very loving daughter,
MARJE.
XXVIII
FROM MARJORIE
12 Place Denfert-Rochereau, Paris,
November 14, 1917.
DEAREST MOTHER AND DADDY:--
I hope that you will not worry about our being cold over here this
winter. We will not be. First place, we find that we can heat the salon
very nicely with a wood fire, and second, we are definitely to have our
chauffage central the 15th. We have had hot water once already, and you
would have laughed. You couldn't see any one for the two days, for every
one was having as many baths as possible. We will have the water right
along after the heating begins.
I went to the movies for the first time in ages the other night. Sydney
took Dulles and myself and we saw an excellent show: that Jap man,
Sessue something (I bet Josey knows), and then some wonderful war
pictures; the Zepps that they brought down the other day, close up, and
most interesting. The tremendous size of them was what overwhelmed me.
They look like a whole sugar factory burned up when they are destroyed.
It is certainly true that no nation but the German would or could afford
to build them now. I wonder if the French will get any good ideas from
the one which is not destroyed. The supremacy of the air seems to be the
great hope of the Allies now. Sydney cheerfully tells us that the Boches
have an aeroplane with six engines. Think of it. Also I believe that
they have some new horrors to spring on us soon. I have been told by a
Suisse-Français girl that they (the Germans) have had the best harvest
they have had for years; also that their first Italian victory fell on
one of their biggest fête days, so they are sure that God is with them.
No one that I ever see over here feels that we could possibly win a
military victory for several years, and then it would be an air victory.
I can hardly believe that the people will be able to endure another
three years. Last spring was nip and tuck keeping the French going, and
if it hadn't been for the rushing over of those troops to march through
the streets on the 4th of July I hate to think what might have happened.
At least, that is the way it seems to me. If Italy gives in, and it
seems possible, as there is some sort of treachery there, and Russia is
quite out of it, if she isn't worse,--on their side, I mean,--will the
French hang on? Lots of people feel that all this changing of cabinets
(and we have another one to-day) means that Caillaux is the man who will
be put in eventually. He is the last chance, as it were, and, if he is
once in, it is all over, for he is supposed to be pro-German. Rootie has
many friends of various grades in the army and navy, who blow in and out
at times and fill us up with gossip: how the whole of America is full of
German spies; how the new submarines carry three-inch guns and fight the
Allied destroyers on equal terms as a result; how the Chemin des Dames
offensive is completely successful; what they think is the reason for
the complete hold-up of all Suisse mail and trains and many French ones;
how many troops have gone to Italy, and so forth. It is more or less
discouraging as a whole. Conditions here in Paris are about the same.
The coal situation seems to be better handled. Most proprietors have
been told by the Government that they must heat their tenants or not ask
rent. There is plenty to eat still. Suisse chocolate is not to be had
any more. Sugar seems to be scarce, but not as bad as last year. Butter
and eggs are high, but one can buy them. The swell tea-houses are having
difficulty to make their cakes, but they do just the same. A great deal
of honey is used instead of sugar, I think. There were special
provisions for confitures being made this fall, so that I think we shall
have all we want. There are still taxis to be seen about, but, although
they have been restricted in what they can do to you in the way of
flatly refusing to take you, still they can usually manage to make it so
disagreeable for you that you prefer to walk. Gasoline is to be very,
very scarce even in the army, I believe, next month, but fortunately we
have a supply on hand. I shall be very glad to turn over the
responsibility of the cars to H. soon, for there is quite a good deal to
be done, and it grows more difficult to do it every day. Ford is
completely mobilized now, and it is very difficult to have anything done
at all.
Rootie says that we are going to have our pictures taken, and what she
says usually goes, so you will probably get a picture of your beautiful
daughter in uniform. Don't you dare show it to a soul if you do, though.
Rootie says to be sure to thank you very much for the toast-holder. We
will use it a lot. Lots and lots of love to both of you, and all of you.
MARJE.
XXIX
FROM MARJORIE
Paris, January 1, 1918.
DEAREST MOTHER AND DADDY:--
If I could only tell you in words what our Christmas was like I would be
so happy, but it's dreadfully hard to. First place, your wonderful
packages came in plenty of time, and were grabbed by Rootie, who
informed me that she was running our special, extra-private Christmas
morning celebration, and for me to trust her!
We decided at the Vestiaire that we must have a tree for the refugee
children,--our pet ones, at any rate,--and Mrs. Shurtleff was so pleased
with the idea. We got a hall in the same building where Dr. S. used to
have his meetings, and we had more fun decorating the tree ourselves,
filling bags with candy which we bought after hours of standing in line
at Potin's, and we gave two hundred refugee children the best Christmas
party they ever had, I bet. We had a prestidigitator-man first, who was
excellent, and who delighted the kids by getting enough flags out of a
hat to give each child one. After he was through, we dropped a curtain
which was hiding the tree, and which looked very gorgeous with its
candles and piles of presents heaped around the base, and bowing and
smiling in front of the tree was Père Noël (Rootie), who gave each child
two presents. They were passed cakes and candy, and even the mothers who
were sitting around the edge of the room (one grown-up was allowed to
each family) got some cake. Then, after they received their two gifts,
which were all sorted according to ages, they came to the door with
mothers and brothers and sisters and were presented with a bag of candy
each, a Christmas card, and a muffler, and were sent home. You never saw
such a well-behaved lot of children, so clean and so good, and so happy.
Monday night we went to bed early,--that is, I did, and Rootie sat up
until all hours arranging things for the next day. When I woke up, I
found that Rootie had ordered eggs for our breakfast, and had slipped
into the other room and made a perfectly delicious piece of toast for
me. We had such fun over breakfast, and then I was led into the next
room where the mantelpiece was decorated with a huge clock with presents
tied on by red ribbons. There was a fire and lots of presents piled in
front of it! All this when we had said we were not giving any presents
this year! I almost cried! We sat down on our little stool, and I began
opening all your lovely things. Oh, you were much too good to us! The
candy was and is the best in the world. You don't know how we pick and
choose and save the caramels till the end only. Rootie always goes down
three layers at once, just to see what is underneath! Josey's dear
little purse and the very effective picture of herself and her hair and
ribbon were almost too much. Rootie was so pleased with your thought of
her. We just had a beautiful Christmas morning together, and I can tell
you we thought pretty nice things about our families who had taken all
the trouble for us.
Rootie had every sort of a present for me. She had thought of everything
that I have ever said I liked, or wanted to have. First place, some
lovely little shell hairpins which are delightful. They fit your head so
nicely. Then a lovely cyclamen plant; a dear little pot to hold a baby
plant; a vase; a hearth-brush, for I get so cross with the one there is
in the room now; a photograph of the two of us on the steps at
Bourre,--which I believe she sent you, too,--with a calendar on it; also
a calendar for the office and the most delightful little machine that
clips papers together, and which I have been longing for for ages!--also
a drum because I have been saying I missed mine so: this one is about
five inches across, and has the sticks attached, and saves you lots of
trouble, for you use it like a watchman's rattle; a beautiful
laundry-bag, which is also much needed, and a sachet. You never saw such
a lovely pile of things, and every one something which I needed, and
wasn't she dear to take all that time for me! It seems I have been an
awful nuisance while she has been getting the things together, because I
insisted upon coming home when she was preparing them. I cannot tell you
how all her thought of me touched and pleased me. It was just like
Rootie to do it.
We had to go over to Miss B----'s at about eleven, for we were all to
have our Christmas dinner there,--all us workers, I mean. I had ordered
everything, and was generally in charge. Miss B---- lives in a charming
little studio which has several of her pieces of sculpture in it, and is
very delightful, anyway. She offered it to us and it did seem so much
more homey than a hotel. She has a big, unfinished marble in the middle
of the room which I had planned in my mind's eye to put aside while we
dined, but I found out it weighs tons and would have to have three or
four men to move it, so we let it stay and we put our table behind it.
We borrowed the table from the rue Daguerre storehouse, and tablecloths
from the ameublement; also chairs and glasses; and with Rootie's yellow
saucers and Fiskie's blue ones in between, and fruit in the middle, we
made a very effective table.
I had ordered the whole dinner from Coute's, a store near by that has
very good cooked things, and which offered to send in everything piping
hot ready to eat. This last suggestion appealed to me, especially as
Miss B---- has no gas, and cooks on her stove, which was built to
heat,--not to cook. Rootie having charge of the decorations fixed up the
place cards prettily, and arranged the fruit. We were fifteen. Every one
arrived on time, but the dinner! I began to get nervous at about five
minutes to one, for the meal was ordered at 12.30, and I was afraid it
must have gone astray. Dulles and Mlle. Herzog volunteered to go to
Coute's and try to find our dinner. After they had left, the brilliant
thought occurred to me that maybe I had told them the wrong number of
the street. It is 18, Bd. Edgar Quinet, 18 like the Vestiaire, but not
like the Daguerre number, --19, --and the more I thought it over the
more sure I was that I had sent the dinner to 19! This thought did not
cheer the company, as there is a very large cemetery opposite Miss
B----'s and goodness only knew where the number 19 might be, so I put on
my fur coat and new hat, which is very tall, and therefore heavy, and
started out to find number 19. I started slowly, but as I went farther
and farther, I got more and more nervous, and began to trot and then to
run. I arrived in front of 19, which was an exceptionally shady-looking
stable, bar, hardware shop, just in time to see Coute's boy, on one of
those bicycle-pushcart affairs, piking down the street!! You have no
idea of what a feeling that gave me. He seemed to be going fifty miles a
minute, and with him was our whole dinner!! I let out a war-whoop, and
started after. That coat of mine which Aunty gave me is not patterned
after a running-suit, and to say that it and my hat, which toppled over
my eyes every minute, and the snow, which was just perfect for coasting,
hampered me, is putting it mildly. However, there was nothing to do but
to run, so I ran; and after about a block (which seemed three to me), I
attracted his attention, and also that of all the population of the
Latin Quarter. He stopped and was most agreeable; said he had looked
everywhere for the right house, but had found no trace. I didn't stop to
argue,--I was so glad to see the pots and pans in that cart,--but I
pointed out the way, and we returned triumphantly to 18. I can tell you
it was a close call. Dulles and Mlle. Herzog met him on their way back,
too, and held him up, but he had already left the food with us. It was
delicious, in spite of its extra journey. Hors d'oeuvres of pâtés de fois
gras; then two big golden-brown turkeys stuffed with marrons; mashed
potatoes all yellow with butter, and just the right consistency; peas
cooked up with lettuce and sweetened just a little; great plates of
delicious currant jelly (we couldn't get cranberry sauce); a big bowl of
celery salad; and brown gravy to go on the turkey. It was mighty good, I
can tell you. We warmed things up a little while they began on the first
course, then we shifted plates, four of us, like regular waiters. We had
planned it all out beforehand, and Miss Curtis attacked the turkeys. She
can carve like a whizz among all the other things that she does well.
She made one bird go the round, and then there was plenty left of the
second for Mrs. Shurtleff to take home some cold. You never saw a crowd
enjoy their Christmas dinner more!
We had a surprise for them next. Hannah and I decided that Christmas
wasn't Christmas without a plum pudding, so we scraped up three little
already cooked plum puddings, which Mrs. Shurtleff had steamed for
hours, Rootie and I gave the sugar we had saved this summer for a foamy
sauce, and, although we cooked it too long, for I got so interested in
eating my turkey that I forgot it, still it was so full of wine and
sugar that it was delicious. We went to buy a little rum to burn on it,
and found to our amusement that we must buy three big bottles, which we
proceeded to do! (The new law requires that you buy at least two
litres.) I wish you could see our room. It looks like a bar, for Mrs.
Shurtleff also brought a bottle of cooking sherry for the sauce. Well,
we poured enough wine on that pudding to light a half-dozen, and with
holly in the center, it looked very gay and most Christmasy. Every one
seemed to like it.
Then we had VANILLA ICE-CREAM AND HOT CHOCOLATE SAUCE!!! Regular
ice-cream just like home, and the best I ever tasted outside of our
house. Oh, it was good! By the time we had done justice to this, we were
all in the state where we preferred to stand up! Some of them went to
Dr. Cabot's Christmas carol party, where they went from hospital to
hospital singing for the blessés. I wonder how they sang! We certainly
made enough noise, and I don't think any one had a homesick thought, and
that was what we were all scared of. Miss Sturgis was unable to come,
and we missed her terribly. We made up a very nice plate of cold turkey,
salad, jelly, and breadsticks for her, and armed with this and some
ice-cream and sauce, we all went down to see her. We found her with a
fire burning, and so we all sat around and talked and some of them
slept, and then Mr. D----, a Red Cross man, blew in, and told us lots of
interesting things about being on the commission for distributing German
money for the German prisoners in Russia the first year of the war, and
also of his more recent experiences in Italy. He was one of the men sent
by the Red Cross with so much actual cash to help out there, and also
lay plans for the future work. He was very interesting. We all stayed
there until it was time to go back to the studio for a Welsh rabbit. I
had to laugh when Miss Curtis asked if I knew how to make one. I said
yes without thinking, and then realized that all I have ever done was to
watch you. However, you know I would die before I would back out, so I
went ahead with an expert air, and gave as exact an imitation of you as
I could. I cut about the same size pieces of cheese, ladled out mustard
with the cover of the tin, just the way you do, and poured on beer in
little professional dabs, every once in a while. Then I stirred and
stirred, and although it gave me heart failure while it passed through
the gummy, stringy, curdly stage, still it finally emerged in a smooth
thick state, and I hastily broke an egg into it, and gave it a final
beating and served it. Wonder of wonders, they said it was O.K.! Far be
it from me to say it was luck! We had scrambled eggs, toast, and salad
also, and last, but not least, we had "asti spumanti." Oh, it was good!
We wanted it for dinner, but we couldn't with the crowd, so we had it
for supper. It was delicious.
I was lucky enough to have to go and see Madame Brunschwig, who is the
great big-hearted woman here who has done so much for the housing of
refugees. She started on her own backing herself, and she is wonderful.
She let me sit beside her from 10 until 12.30 one day, and listen to her
interview her people. It was so interesting to see how a Frenchwoman
does it. She is so sharp, never misses a thing, very clear-headed,
kind-hearted, and has that quick, wise power of decision which is so
characteristic of Mrs. Shurtleff. It was very interesting to hear her
say so many times just the things that I have heard Mrs. S. say. I feel
quite sure that their two judgments on a case would be the same. I think
it is well worth noting that these two women have done what they have
without any social-service training; they just use their heads and
hearts and common sense. I am not yet convinced that one has to go to
the Boston School for Social Workers to be a good worker.
The gasoline situation has been very serious over here lately; the story
is that the American Government took all the gas that came into France
for ten days because they were getting short, and they would not stand
for the lavish use of gas which had been going on. Anyway, they have
finally stopped bons of essence for private cars. Miss Curtis says that
she has been told that the English have made a fuss, too, for they have
not had any private cars for a long, long time. We got ours for the work
all right. It was reduced, but still we will have enough if we are
careful, I believe. I have had lots of fun initiating Hannah into the
game of "trying-to-get-gasoline-in-Paris."
The pastry-shops are really to be closed, I guess; the American ones
have been stopped from making any kind of cake and even corn-bread. We
got a big chocolate cake at Rebattet's Saturday, but I think it is the
last. I am glad of it, for people at home are doing so much it seems to
me we ought to be cut down over here, too. I shall be especially glad if
they stop all this bonbon-making; it must use oodles of sugar. (I think
we have enough for a few months, and then we will be home.) I imagine
that it is the American Government that has brought pressure to bear on
this, and it is a good thing.
Hannah and I saw some of the cement boats being built the other day,
when we were outside of Paris; they looked fine. Very low in the water,
just like regular barges, but, of course, they must be built in a much
shorter space of time. I wonder if they are really using them as much as
they expected to?
It seems to be a very critical time just now for the Allies. Lots of
people are depressed and talking very gloomily. Evidently the Caillaux
affair is pretty delicate. The English Government has been insulted, and
it is up to the French to do away with the gentleman in question. They
called the class of 1919 the day before yesterday, and also recalled
that of '91, which sounds as if they wanted men. All the Americans we
see speak cheerfully of three to five years' preparation, but I can't
believe it. Isn't it awful to think of Padua being bombarded? Will there
be anything beautiful left after this war? Even Jerusalem. We have heard
such wild stories about how they have defended Venice from air attacks,
that there are lots and lots of balloons up over it, and that they have
wires stretched between each two, and, of course, a wire, even if pretty
fine, will wreck an airplane. It seems that these wires can't be seen
very well. I do not know whether this is true or not, but a very nice
doctor who had just come back from there told us. By the by, he is the
doctor who now gives us one afternoon a week for our refugees; then Miss
Neivin--one of the workers, and who has had some first-aid training at
home--can go into the homes afterwards and follow up the cases.
I wonder if the Boches have really got some new atrocity to spring on
us. Every one seems to think that they have. I can't see how they can
have time to think up anything else. Did you hear about the mirrors used
on submarines so that they are very hard to see? It sounds plausible.
Lots and lots of love to you all. Tell John-on-the-corner, Mary
Devlin, and all that I am looking forward to seeing them all in
May. Tell Mrs. Dow that her candy is the best ever, and that it
is in much better condition when she packs it in lead paper and
in a tin box. Lots and lots of love again, and here's hoping that
you are still alive after the eleventh page of rambling of your
very-affectionate-and-looking-forward-to-being-home-soon
Daughter,
Marje.
XXX
FROM ESTHER
Thursday evening, January 31, 1918.
DEAREST FAMILY:--
Last night was it--the biggest raid they've ever had on Paris. When I
think that at nine o'clock I was sitting up in bed with a sniffling
cold, bemoaning the fact that I couldn't seem to write anything but the
stupidest sort of letter when I had a whole week packed full of events
to tell you about--when I think of that, I don't know how I shall begin
to tell you all to-night.
Every one has been expecting an air raid on Paris for quite a time, and
Sunday evening we were all set for it, for the moon was full, and it was
the Kaiser's birthday, and we worked our intuitions to the utmost. Last
night, when I snuggled down in my warm bed, I had forgotten all such
possibilities.
Suddenly I heard that siren that means one thing and one thing only.
It's a dismal, foreboding sound. There's also an "alerte," a sort of
horn that blows at the same time, that sounds as though a fiend were
putting his whole lungs into it. I didn't stir at first because I
thought it might be a false alarm, but the siren and the alerte kept it
up and kept it up, so that Marje and I, for curiosity's sake, slipped
into our fur coats and went out on the balcony. We saw a few aeroplanes
and rocket signals and heard a distant booming of guns. The street
lights went out one by one and the tramways rumbled ponderously home
from their last nocturnal journey.
It was an ideal night--the moon had waned only a little and the stars
were bright; but never did "the luster of midday to objects below" give
such a desperate feeling of defenselessness as when we looked out across
the Place and saw each tree and building stand out distinctly.
The guns grew much louder. We turned to each other and said, "This is
something new--we've never heard anything half so near in any other
raid." We were thrilled. We went across to the other apartment to see if
Hilda and Gay and Fiskey were taking it all in, and just as we stepped
into Gay's room, two terrific crashes came. We all rushed out on
Fiskey's balcony and stood there trembling with excitement. She and
Hilda said that there had been two great flashes; Marje and I had been
in Gay's room just at that instant, and were as mad as anything to have
missed something.