Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1918-04-02
Continued From Last Issue)

WYE saw no English, however,
w other than those in the swift
motors that dashed eastward
through the Bots; no other French
than those tired cavalrymen De Leval
had seen going along the boulevard,
dropping with fatigue over their
horses necks. The newspapers might
announce that no official acknowl-
edgment Of the surrender of the forts
of Liege had been made; that the
situation reste favorable" "les forts
tiennent toujours" the rumors that
flew from mouth to mouth were 9TH
erwise, and people knew. The slow,
persistent truth Lercolated silently.
Then one day, for the first time,
there we're cryptic notes in the press.
The situation was serious. The
o'clock edition of lie Soir had an al
fusion to grave events, and instantly
all over town there were rumors of a
German advance; the invaders we're
drawing near; the Uhlans were seen
at this place and that!
The hours wore away. One got
somehow through the day, the spirits
declining toward evening with the
sun, for then the rumors began 70
pour into the legation, brought by
the fugitives who came for consola-
ton, or by the timorous, who came
for encouragement or information.
They whispered more and more of aw.
full atrocities, hideous deeds commit
ted near Tirlemont The Germans
were said to have sacked the peasants
houses, killed the men, thrust bayon-
cts through the breasts of girls, hung
Belgian soldier up by the thumbs
l went to bed that night feeling like
the sad PestalozZi.
At the English church that last
Sunday morning the organ was not
in commission. The organist played
on a little barmonium and the choir
broke down every few minutes, but
services we're never held under circum-
stances more impressive. The at
mosphere was heavy with the emo
tions of the hour. Give peace in
our time, o Lord" read the littlt
curate, and there was an unisonant
sigh. At the prayer for King George
V there was a pregnant silence; when
he added, and for Albert King Of
the Belgians," he paused and the ST.
lence deePened, and then, as he went
on, and Thy servant, the President
of the United States one felt (why
not avow it, even if one is Anglo
Saxon?) one felt close to tears. The
curate, instead of a sermon of his
own-rather wisely, | thought-read
a published sermon by the bishop
It may have suffered an alternating
process in the transmission, but there
was one good sentence in it, not by
the curate, nor even by the bishop
but by Lord Kitchener, who had said
to his men after the South African
campaign, "You have tasted the salt
of life. and you will not forget its
Iavor."
The Old Hymns
There are times, there are certain
moments in life, when the old pray
ers, the old hymns, suddenly acquire
a new meaning and afford consola
tion that no other words can give
What floods of memory out OF far
off youth, out of that far-off land!
The mentality of our race is formed
our very being saturated, with The
literature Of the King James version
of the English Bible, with the prayer
book, and with Shakespeare. The in
tellectual processes and the mode o.
instructive thought and impressions
Of thousands who could not cite you {
line out of any of them are all due
to those three collections out of the
golden age of English literature. II
is that that singles out our race from
all others and makes us different. The
French have Moliere and Racine III
place of Shakespeare; but in the eff
feet on their mentality, instead of the
King James version they have-the
fables of La Fontaine. And that
morning, when the world was falline
asunder all about them, it was this
great common heritage that drew the
English and the Americans in that
congregation somehow together; so
that as we came out OF the church
into the narrow little Rue de Stas-
sart. and Sir Francis's motor rolled w
flying little British flag, and Sir
Francis entered his limousine, the
men of the congregation uncovered as
he drove away, and as the car came
I'D flying the American flag the Eng
lishmen uncovered again.
The Queen Goes to Antwerp
had asked an audience of the
queen for Miss Boyle O'Reilly, who
had a message of sympathy from
America, and that afternoon word
came that the queen would grant the
audience at 1870. We drove to the
palace; not that day to the grille
d'honneur, but to the entrance in the
quiet little Rue Brailmont-there
where the high wall shuts in the pal
ace ground. The military guard was
on the qui vive, and once admitted we
were received by an old major-domc
with black mutton-chop whiskers and
shown VI, to o little waiting room
where we were received by one OF
the queens ladies-in-waiting, the
Countess do. We had TO wait, and
talked for a long time--abOut the
war, of course, the countess very
much moved, her eyes filling with
tears every few minutes. But after a
while, accompanied by the good Doc
tor le Boeuf, who had done so much
for the Red Cross, we were conducted
down the long red carpeted corridor
to the queens private apartments and
shown into the little blue drawing
room. And presently the queen en-
tered. She wore a simple blue gown
with transparent sleeves, and
white, low, girlish collar; not jew
ell. only her wedding ring on hel
hand. and her hair dressed in deli