But the unfortunates, I learned, for the last three weeks have
been sleeping on pallets of straw without sheets. It is impossible
for them to undress. During these same three weeks none of
the refugees were able to take a bath.

It was uncomfortably cold. For six long rooms—actually
halls——on different floors-——there are three small stoves only
modestly filled with fuel, which give off a very indifferent
degree of heat.

That same morning, there had been a great discussion. The
directress, a Red Cross lady, wanted all the 130 refugees to
move into the three heated rooms, in order to economize on
additional stoves and coal.

Naturally, there were protests. The families are more or less
grouped together among themselves—to give an impression of
privacy.

Last week, she informed me, it was the food which had been
the cause of complaints. A merchant who stood near her said
to me: “Plenty of French people would be glad to have as
much.”

The young lady from the Red Cross added: “They are so
difficult—these S paniards!”

Yes, they are very difficult these poor people—they refuse
to eat eggs that are beyond selling. They wish to sleep in beds
and take their clothes off! They like to be able to warm their
weary limbs before a fire in winter time!

A woman on a sick bed—one of the straw pallets—was drink-
ing coffee out of a jam jar. The guard pretended that she had
refused to drink the coffee when it was served to her in a glass.

For the last eight days the refugees had finally been permit-
ted to go out between 2 and 6 o’clock in the afternoon. For

.15 days before that they were herded in under the guard of

the mulish directress and the gendarmes at the door.

The conclusion to which I arrived at the end of my trip is
that those municipalities which have progressive leadership and
which administer refugee shelters under the auspices of the

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