Iditarod pioneer., 1915-01-23
WHY RED GROSS FUNDS
 ARE NEEDED IN EUROPE

1AiN lOilo"li4S iS''Ni' PNA'i4'44N'' III A-iAS of October 14 gives an idea of the terrible need of the denizens Of the war-infested dis tricts of Europe:
 ''As an American woman who has spent about nine happy summers with many other of her compatriots in this beautiful cor ner of France, 1 feel that we all owe it a debt in this hour of diversity
 Day after day 1 see hundreds of refugees pour in from Belgium and France, st@rving, ragged, despairing, from scenes of carnage and murder, bereft of homes, relatives and resources They are largely peasants, but many from LCuvain and Ch&rlcroi are Cul- tivated, finely y-bred aged men and women and children of all ages. They are thrown Ike bits of wracl,age by the storm raging over Europe up to this isolated corner of Brittany, where even the rich find money scarce. and where in q few weeks coal and wood will be scarce also.
 This disaster ia far worse than that of Ncssina, for now there is no other land to fly to- no other people to ,Id. We Amerl- c.rs and English, having laid aside fine ra.nent and social pleasures, are u work al the once smart Hotel Royal now 6 hospital for the wounded, which arrive daily by hundreds, two deep On straw. But the Croi,; Rouge has them in its care. These refugees are adriit, like leaves in Q storm, shorn of everything which makes life pos sible. They sleep also on straw, in garages, cafes and villas whose chatclaines succor them. Listen to the tales which l have heard and of sights which my eyes have seen, and which Monsieur Croiard mayor f l,+ hearts leap to aid them:
 "Last night in the garage of the Grand hotel slept seven little girls, all under 7, whose ragged daintineSs proved former love and luxury. They have lost all parents and home and do not even know the names of their villages. Their little feet are bleeding from trampng fields; their tear-stained faces pinched from starvation. Four others more fortunate, came seventy miles in Belgian bread cart, pulled by a dog l have talked with a young mother whose baby we buried last night. A Ger man musket batterel in its chest when its mother tried to push aside the barrel which shot her husband
 "A child of : has one hand gone, cut from his mothers clasp because he de tanned her flight from home the Germans were in haste to burn. An old man IS liv- ing and here because he was so clever as to lie down as though dead when Germans, who mad locked forty such up in room, told them to dance for their lives" while they shot at them through the shutters from the street.
 This story is corroborated by four wit nesses. baker of Mons was bidden to bake by Germans. He compiled until flour was exhausted and was shot, before his wife because they claimed he refused to tell where more flour was hidden. Then his wife was bidden to divulge, and to punish her "obstinacy,' her husband, before her eyes was thrust into the furnace She IS quite demented, and sits gazing silently at un- known horrors. These people, to earn food are being placed on farms to work in fields and many will work as peasants who were professors and gentleWomen of refinement There Is not enough fine work to go round All are innocent victims of an unrighteous war, and for many nights slept in fields, dug for carrots with bare hands, drank from muddied pools, with the flames of burning homes on the sky behind them, and despair ahead. Their clothing Is in tatters, their shoes in pieces. With our best ef forts We cannot clothe these hundreds who increase daily. Troops at the front send for food. Our horses and motors have all been requisitioned by the army, and this formerly bright little town of luxury and gaiety is now just a shelter for the hunted who are at bay against misfortune. What will become of them?
 T beg you in happy safe America to deny yourselves a cigar, theater seat and an extra hat and help us to help them Ten cents will buy child ten rolls of bread Fifty cents will cover little feet which never again will be caressed by a mother. A dollar will buy a shawl for a widow. Give, give, 1 beg of your generous hearts. America has led the world in char lty for less worthy causes Compassion knows no nationality Pity blesses the glver and the poor. You mothers, when you tuck your children safely into bed at night, re- member these little beings reared in no less care and luxury who are adrlft in a world which has used them i'll. The aged, too, like older children, having lived, have earned rest before death; yet they, too, are cast out from homes, knowing nothing of where dear ones are, their sons at the front fighting the enemy which has de them, for honor's sake
 All Europe is one great slaughter house. Paris can no longer send us money from our bank accounts, and could you see this tragic procession file out from beneath St. Malos eleventh century gates, all ones wealth is not enough to heal their broken hearts and bodies.
 '1n the name of pity and human sym pathy, l implore your aid for America is the only place which we can turn to now.