shape of a new English daily newspaper published in Paris, called the
_Paris Daily Post_. It consists of a small single sheet--the
_Figaro_, and the _Echo de Paris_, are the only papers now
printed on double sheets--and in an editorial note declares that its
policy is to "preach courage and confidence." It is an unpretentious,
lively, amusing little production and may eventually have a brilliant
career.

Many of the wounded now coming in to the hospitals are being treated for
rheumatism contracted in the trenches during days and nights of exposure
to the rain. A man of the East Lancashire Regiment, who had his left arm
smashed by a shell, said that when his detachment were attacked at dawn
in a village near Compiegne, "the terrified women and children rushed
into the streets in their night gowns. Their houses were being smashed
like pie-crust. It made us feel badly to see some of these poor women
and children blown to pieces by the German shells. We tried to put them
in whatever shelter was available."

Professor Pierre Delbet, of the Paris Faculty of Medicine, relates an
extraordinary conversation between a young general commanding a division
of the Prussian Guard Corps and Doctor Delbet's mother, who is a
venerable lady of seventy-seven. Professor Delbet went yesterday to
visit his mother at her country house situated in a village on the Grand
Morin River, in the heart of the region where the fighting took place a
few days ago. Madame Delbet's house is in the center of the village, and
on her grounds a small wooden bridge connects the courtyard and flower
garden with the vegetable garden on the other bank. There are two public
bridges at the ends of the village, but these had been blown up by the
French engineer soldiers. Last Friday morning the Germans arrived and
smashed open the double gate of Madame Delbet's house. A young general,