The Birmingham age-herald., 1920-07-11

, teen made orphans by the war. There were 660 children: 400 had tubercu- 1osis.
 There were no milk and no eggs. They were given vegetables. war bread and coffee ersatz. The bedding was scanty. There were few sheets and no soap. An attempt at washing was made once a week.
 "In yard divided by fence were listless, silent little boys and little girls. All were i'll from want of food Some had swollen bodies and running sores, others were skeletons. Children of ten and twelve looked to be five ana six. In the girls yard were two tiny boys dying of tuberculosis. They sat on hard wooden bench.
 "The nurse looked at them with pity
 They want to lie down she said We ought to have, easy chairs, put there are none.'
 Upstairs in the wards were the chll- dren too weak to walk.
 'In a clothes basket wrapped in rags was a baby ten months old Tragic eyes looked out from pallid face. The baby had had pneumonia; now it was dying of tuberculosis. The father had been killed in the war, the mother was breathing her last in a nearby hos pital
 "In another room were three children drying. One, about four, with golden curls, lay upon the bed quivvering wlth convulsions; great, sobbing gasps came from between the little lips; the eyes were scarcely open.
 "On the next bed a baby sat proppeo up. Her body was a swollen lump. her legs, two sticks; she was too long un1eo to help.
 "The third kiddie was in the last stage of consumption. But she still clung to life. In her hand was a tiny |musicbox It played one tune. Endless ly she ground out that tune to her dying companions. The minutes ticKeo and life slipped away. No milk no mothers breast, no kiss. These little lives went out alone. "In each ward it was the same. The hospital was a charnel house. mere were but few nurses, and they were hungry and desperate. They did not hke I to see the babies die. As the writer ie1t, the little ones lined up in the yard to say goodby This is the scene she re- members:
 Hundreds of baby faces with pathetic eyes looked up at me and broken it'le bodies bowed and courtesied ana Hspeo | in chorus, God bless you '.I turned and fled. Miss von Pott nur- ried after me. She seized my arm l clenched my fist "If only they had said | God damn you I sobbed. "She took my hand. We had long slnce ceased to remember we were from enemy lands. We were women, and the world was dying. ".Do YOU know said Miss von Pott' IT have been wondering if the children Tn Russia and Hungary have more to eat than they have here, because 1T they have. we might better become bolsneviNl. What difference does it make as long as we are fed?
 eve went back to Miss von Pott' s home The family all lived in one apart ment, for economy. It was tea-ume- They still had a little real tea. mere were no milk and no sugar, but tea-hour was sacred. Mrs von Pott presided. She was as fragile as the china A breath would blow her away. There l was an exquisite tea-tray the dalntiest !, of china, and linen napkins. We hung breathless over the steaming liquid ana nibbled a tiny portion of impossible | black bread.
 q This said Miss won Pott. is the | great moment of the day. I live for 1t. 1 But soon our tea will be gone. | Ut was hard to leave Miss von Pott, | hard to go back to America, where they | would not understand, where I could not talk For, in the fact of suffering suf- fering of children, everything else IS l forgotten. Women like Miss von Pott i and myself, who had seen what we had seen, temporarily had no differences. It was all merged in anguish.
 MADE POOR SUFFER 1 we hated war; we hated the man S ! physical, world of combat that let chill