The herald., 1918-05-23
LETTER IN The
MORNING MAIL
How Mrs. Lane Finally Realized
That Thousands of Other
Mothers Sons Are at War
Scared Battle Front.
BY MAMMALIAN FOSTER
OF the VioiIantes.

Of the VioiIantes.
Mathematics teach us that 1 from 1
leaves nothing, and there is also the
well known biological theorem that
you cannot get blood from a turnip.
1t is also assumed, Sir Isaac Newton
having demonstrated the law, that
what goes up is bound to- come down,
but this is only abstract Mrs. Lane
probably would have denied it.
The fiat rent, previously $1,000 a
year, now was 1,4OO, and 1t showed no
signs whatever of coming down. The
same condition applied also to her
children's shoes. The shoes now cost
81, whereas they formerly had cost 81.
But this was merely detail A SINH
lar phenomenon occurred as to beef
steaks, potatoes, butter, fish and the
81 other varieties of domestic essen
tials. All had gone up; none had
come down. About the only thing sta
BILE in Mrs. Lanes cosmos was Mr..
Lanes yearly income. This was $1,000
a year. Already Mrs. Lane had given
up one maid. The war literally was at
her door. True, Mrs. Lane had no son,
no brother-no kin of any kind-in the
war, but the war still was at her door.
Hard to Make Ends Meet
Give money for the war? What do
you think she was doing, anyway
She was giving every cent she had,
trying to make both ends meet in her
household. 1t hurt, though. Mrs.
Lane was kindly, warm hearted wo-
man, and she would have liked to give.
The war was dreadful 1t was so
dreadful she'd stopped reading about 1t.
But one must read letters. One
must do that when a friend takes the
trouble to write them.
The letter came in the morning mail.
Mrs. Lane read 1t, then she read 1t
again. Afterward she sat there alb
sorbed silent, rigid. The color had crept
out of her face, and her breath came
swiftly from between her parted lips.
81 hare just come back from the
cdnteen," 1t read. "Such an utter
noonl A trainIodd of seriously
DOunded to be fed at once, tchich
fs trying, as one has to climb into
oil the carriages, one after the 9th
or. We begin toith the men toho
are tceH enough to sit up and han
die their cups, and those toho are
too III eren TO lift their heads, of
course, zoe hare to lift and feed
ourselves. Feeding the ones tcith
bad face tcounds are the hardest.
I can stand ordinary toounds Of
blood, but phen man ought to
hos ts-u0hl-it takes all your
courage to get through q feeding.
managed to get halt pint Of
milk and beaten egg and some
brandy dozen the throat of q boy of
ftoenty tohO had no mouth left, and
I had to clean Il bettoeen every
ntOuthfut. He had had no food for
Fifteen hours and toas so thirsty
that he pds nearly insane. held
his head against me, and gagged
all the time, but Just kept think
ing, Suppose It tods my boy toho
Reeded q drink and there tcds no
one to 0ire IL to him So tcent
through Nth IL, and he finally toent
30 sleep. oh, Martha, Martha Lane,
zoe need eperythin0-dH you and
the rest can send"
II Lawrence Had Gone to War.
One o'clock struck. Mrs. Lane still
sat with the letter clutched in her
hand. whats for dinner?" asked Han.
nah, the maid. Mrs. Lane hardly heard
her. She was still sitting there when
Olivia fiOundered in. Olivia was four
teen, the conscious age. Mother" she
said fretfully, 81 can't go to dancing
school again in brown gloves when all
the other girls have white ones" The
plant reminded Mrs. Lane that Law
renee at boarding school had written
that morning about his socks. He had
only two pairs Of silk ones left. "And,
mother" said Olivia, continuing But
what Olivia said Mrs. Lane didn't hear.
She had dropped her head on the table
and unaccourtably was weeping. "Just
suppose 1t was my boy-minei" she
was sobbing.
why, motherw calculated Olivia.
She hurried toward her mother.
what Is 1t, mother? You're acting lust
as though Lawrence had gone to warI"
Mrs. Lane looked up, the tears
streaking down her face.
'That's just what is the matter with
mel l should be acting as IL Lawrence
were there. And so should you'll IL
Willie were like these, the boys there"
she pointed to the letter that had slip
ped from her lap to the floor-"if he
were, like them, in need, dying, want
Ing eggs, milk, brandy, to keep him
alive. would you be buying white
gloves? And would we think what other
people wear or how they live or wheth-
er we had only one servant now2 II my
boy was over there, II my son were"
But other women's sons are over
there. Mrs. Lane had at last realized
this. The tears were rolling down her
cheeks.