to get the papers, and when they were handed out, read them in
silence, a silence which was ominous. Political news was relegated to
the third page and was not read until we got back to the veranda. In
these days nothing mattered; the baker came late; the breakfast dishes
were not washed sometimes until they were needed for lunch, for the
German maids and the English maids discussed the situation out under
the trees. Mary, whose last name sounded like a tray of dishes
falling, the fine-looking Polish woman who brought us vegetables every
morning, arrived late and in tears, for she said, "This would be bad
times for Poland--always it was bad times for Poland, and I will never
see my mother again."

A shadow had fallen on us, a shadow that darkened the children's
play. Now they made forts of sand, and bored holes in the ends of
stove-wood to represent gaping cannon's mouths, and played that half
the company were Germans; but before many days that game languished,
for there were none who would take the German part: every boat that
was built now was a battleship, and every kite was an aeroplane and
loaded with bombs!

In less than a week we were collecting for a hospital ship to be the
gift of Canadian women. The message was read out in church one
afternoon, and volunteer collectors were asked for. So successful were
these collectors all over Canada that in a few days word came to us
that enough money had been raised, and that all moneys collected then
could be given to the Belgian Relief Fund. The money had simply poured
in--it was a relief to give!

Before the time came for school to begin, there were many closed
cottages, for the happy careless freedom of the beach was gone; there