the press to a monotonous repetition of the same formula.  Only headlines give scope for originality.  Of local news there is none.  There is nothing doing in Paris but steady preparation for meeting contingencies by organizing ambulances and relief for the poor.”

From the thousands of tales brought back by American tourists caught in Germany at the outbreak of the war, there is more than enough evidence that they were not treated with that courtesy manifested towards them by the French.  They were arrested as spies, subjected to all sorts of embarrassments and indignities; their persons searched, their baggage and letters examined, and frequently were detained for long periods without any explanation being offered.  When finally taken to the frontier, they were not merely put across—­frequently they were in a sense thrown across.

Nor were the subjects of other nations, particularly those with which Germany was at war, treated with that fine restraint which characterized the French.  Here is an account by a traveller of the treatment of Russian subjects: 

“We left Berlin on the day Germany declared war against Russia.  Within seventy-five miles of the frontier, 1,000 Russians in the train by which they were travelling were turned out of the carriage and compelled to spend eighteen hours without food in an open field surrounded by soldiers with fixed bayonets.

“Then they were placed in dirty cattle wagons, about sixty men, women and children to a wagon, and for twenty-eight hours were carried about Prussia without food, drink or privacy.  In Stettin they were lodged in pig pens, and next morning were sent off by steamer to Rugen, whence they made their way to Denmark and Sweden without money or luggage.  Sweden provided them with food and free passage to the Russian frontier.  Five of our fellow-passengers went mad.”

The steamship Philadelphia—­note the name, signifying brotherly love, so completely lost sight of in the conflict—­was the first passenger liner to reach America after the beginning of the European war.  A more remarkable crowd never arrived in New York City by steamship or train.  There were men of millions and persons of modest means who had slept side by side on the journey over; voyagers with balances of tens of thousands of dollars in banks and not a cent in their pocketbooks; men able and eager to pay any price for the best accommodations to be had, yet satisfied and happy sharing bunks in the steerage.

There were women who had lost all baggage and had come alone, their friends and relatives being unable to get accommodations on the vessel.  There were children who had come on board with their mothers, with neither money nor reservations, who were happy because they had received the very best treatment from all the steamship’s officers and crew and because they had enjoyed the most comfortable quarters to be had, surrendered by men who were content to sleep in most humble surroundings, or, if necessary, as happened in a few cases, to sleep on the decks when the weather permitted.