New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-05-07

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mutilation. d. was as pretty as spring
flower, and she Rad none Of that. So I do
not wish to state an unfair thing But with
some Of us, honest confession makes Us say
that the dread Of being mylilsted grows on.
Of a sub-conscious vanity. No woman has
ever said this TO me. Am I being, then, IN
fair to my SEX Am I revealing persona
weakness not shared by others? Even the
vsinest woman, IL it were put up 10 her.
you can save man II you are willing 20
have your nose shot away" would save the
man. But the worst Of it IS the choice does
not come in that form. You are never sure
in going out that you are going to save
man; and there may be six chances out o.
twelve that you are going 70 lose your nose.
Fear and Vanity.
One type Of woman would hate TO lose an
arm. She could not drive her car, steer an
aeroplane, guide her horse-and these thing
are life to her. An artist would rather be
made deaf than blind. The loss would be
measured by the means Of expression.
dreaded being made life invalid who would
sit in a chair and wear on the household. I
had seen such. The gift | was making over
there was not big enough to Offset what such
a disaster would bring upon my family. The
fear of having my brain tapped, leaving the
body healthy, as had seen in soldiers, was
a very present and hdeous fear.
The whole life under fire gradually be-
came ratonalized. We came not TO notics
the shrspnel on the trenches at breakfast.
1t fell regularly; il did little damage But
after three noisy bombardments during al
evening, a morning and an afternoon
lodged shells all night in my sleep. heard
them come singing for my forehead, Jumped
out Of the way and awoke That was the
only time carried the strain OF war over
into sleep. | was not afraid in the same way
if there was lot OF manual work 10 be done
at the time OF stress. But il one has TO ST.
there and wait, like the men in the trenches,
when the enemy's artillery is preparing the
ground for a bayonet charge-that is IN
pleasant One afternoon heavy shells began
to hit our village, breaking the glass in our
windows. We had nothing to do except TO
wonder about our friends, who were at the
church corner where the shells were falling,
and wait for our own time.
Tango Tea for Distraction.
SO we did an absurd thing to take Of our
nervousness. The heavier shells, low moan
ing, numbered in with their ponderous shak-
ing. They seem TO take more time 70 do a
more thorough job At two blocks away the
first one splintered our windows. We were
having guests, so we pretended not to be ner-
vous.
Lets have a tango tea" said one.
We wanted something wild and frivolous
and far away from the thing that was trou-
bling US.
"A pleasant way to 60" said our companion
to US as we danced.
(Which corner of the ceiling will il enter?'
We looked up and wondered.
After that twenty-five minutes our Friends
came pattering back. We had INDUCED in the
most dofn. ely aimed piece Of nonsense 20
work of our nervousness.
There were little daily Commandments a.
breakfast time.
well, girls, there comes tho first dose!"
You looked at your companions with a
shrug of the shoulders. You took certain
sub-conscous precautions
A number of our men had been wounded
while near the window from bits of she'll and
glass driven into the flesh and making
mean tear-soldiers working apparently in
safety in kitchen, peasant in her living
room. So il comforted nerves to move away
from a window when the banging opened.
You would go on writing the letters, but you
would remove yourself from the window 20
the shallow at the foot Of the bed-useless
for the whole house was cardboard, but com
forting.
II we were counting socks in the kitchen.
when little ones dug up the garden, we often
found work in the other room. We pinned
up the picture from comic weekly, OF
guest WHO comes 10 his host at midnight,
shoes and collar in hand, saying, "They have
started Smelling his north bedroom, and he
would prefer to sleep in a suite on the other
side OF the chateau"
A Hero.
All these we're devices OF ours to save our
selves from the fear that was so ready 90