The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1917-09-11

first clearing up made by our soldiers. There is everything in these little mountains of rubbish. There are fry | ing pans and other household dishes, pieces of metal fallen from frames,
 and quantities of iron beds all twisted,
 and among these, it goes without say- ing many children's beds. Where are
 they, those poor little ones who slept l there?
 In the city itself, these workers for
 the gracious Kaiser" have truly at- i tained the height of destruction. It | is not exaggerated, it is strictly true,
 to say that there stands no longer a
 single monument, a single house,
 there is nothing that has not been
 razed to within 8 metre from the
 ground. The ensemble is but an inn
 mense and formless tomb of red | brick by the side of which the fruit
 trees, the branches of the severed
 trunk lay and wither.
 An officer, at whose side I have
 stopped a minute, tells me of little detail. Oh, truly, very unimportant, but more touching because of its un-
 importance. He tells me about the
 returning of the swallows. Their f.
 delity to their old nests is well known
 and when they come back this time,
 poor little things, they find nothing,
 nothing they have known before or have been fond of. They go whirling around, making that peculiar cry
 which is their cry of alarm, after
 which, in disorder, they depart
 | Our soldiers are working to clean up the streets that are covered with 4 rubbish, for the passage of our troops and camions. Nothing is in condi- tion, mot a single part
 .-f.
 pears the principle church, the bar
 barians had the delicacy to plant the
 iron cross which had sirlnounted the
 tower! {. There are no words that
 can tell the horror of everything
 which has the improbability and strangeness of nightmare, no words to tell of the furious indignation (which came into my hear the 1oath-
 in. the rage, and the desire for. ven , geance! Purposely, without any provocation, this debased Prussian l humanity came to do this to our homes.
 And these ruins are nothing. No,
 the most irreparable part of his work is in the earth. Everywhere are new cemeteries overflowing with. ssdead Oh! how debaseless. and lawless is } that humanity which, at the sign l AA VIII AhCAA AiAdSlCt, L1S COlllS WILL ll1S machine-gun his ignoble liquid fire and his deadly gas, and mow down our sons, our brothers, and all the flower of the youth of France.
 But if one stopped to let them re- 7 gain their breath we know that they Il would begin again tomorrow, only 1t l would be even worse, because they z have slaughter in their souls as oth-
 CTS have honor ... And to think that there are Frenchmen, or can we call them so, who would hold out a friendly hand to these Boches and I finally allow them to keep that which they have taken and depart, unpun- : ished for all their insults and all their t crimes. To think that some of the t papers of Paris a while ago dared to r write, Tt is truly regrettab1e, but it l, is war. War is always like that you know, and everyone does the same , !. What terrible blasphemy! We have s never, in spite of the unavoidable ex- : cesses,, alas, of battles, done anything y approaching it.
 To show the great difference be. tween the races it will be sufficient n to go to Pekin, where, fifteen years y ago. all Europe claimed to be actins sl-how lamentably, I realize-in the Tight of civilization" As conuueror. e we had divided the Celestial City ane n the provinces round about it in sec B tors, each deyolving to oneeof the al g lied nations. But in the French sec. o tor peace reigned, the Chinese wen on tranquilly with their normal life o our soldiers even aided them in thei
 work Of culture and gathered togeth CT their little abandoned orphans In the German. sector, on the con Il trary, 1t was always, even after tn, e trouble was over, destruction, incen y diarism, murder. Besides, the brutal IL ity of the German Minister had beer o the cause in the beginninga And fo
 him, always for him. who conduct IS today this Worldwide butchery. Thei gracious Kaiser" has said officiaII e to his soldiers Do like the Huns e hope that, for fifty years, they vii IL not forget the terror of your passing n High above, in the stormy sky; flut 'e ter about two or three of those ugly B dark things that they call "sausages d but which more resemble enormou s fish or a kind of aerial whale But W G. know that within there are Boche d with telescopes spying on us withou h. ceasing and by wireless telegraph, ir direct the sending of shells on al " military conveys that dare to go b d day and on any troops that .attemr B. to form.
 B. Our soldiers in blue are very m V, merous in this city which Is a can 'h tonment of importance and which > the place where they come to rest f
 become themselves again and to re re gain a little of the health lost in th Ds trenches nearby
 m By the grace of God, they. come an Id go, hurrying to thousand duties UT m der the protection, sometimes illr is story, of "camouflages'' which cor l. ceal them. These poor men are moi Id unfortunate than those who recupe1 C. ate in cities not entirely destroye, le where the inhabitants have had tt IT. heroism to remain in spite of tt re showers of shells. In those cities the ut will at least sometimes see the fac, l. of women, and the faces of little chi to dren. very sweet to look upon f. n- those who are the fathers of farnflie Id But here, nothing .- They on.y. st IS, each other and the hidden caves Tn,
 which they often have to descend UT shield themselves from death Con K for little visit and observe the Id wonderful serenity, you Parisien me a land women, very elegant but vel ct useless. who beg that the'>war wi :. end. Oh! you are patriots, I know r. we'll but if you can stand a hard ds